


Born to be Yours

by LouPF



Category: Kaptein Sabeltann | Captain Sabertooth - Formoe
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Adoption, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bathtub Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Boats and Ships, Butt Plugs, Chains, Consensual Slavery, Consensual Underage Sex, Crying, Den Sorte Dame - Freeform, Denial of Feelings, Dueling, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Hypothermia, Idiots in Love, Inspired by the tv series, Knotting, Lama Rama, Langemann is a bad dad :(, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Master/Pet, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Mild Blood, Near Death Experiences, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other, Partying, Pinky is 16 and of legal age in Norway amen and thank you, Pirates, Power Bottom, Praise Kink, Punishment, Sailing, Service Top, Sex Toys, Slavery, Slow Burn, Smut, author is also 16 and of legal age in Norway and thank you, cutlasses, here, non-human Sabeltann, power bottom Pinky, service top Sabeltann, the grim lady, the grim shadow, the virgin would be Sabeltann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: "How," said Sabeltann, "did you get into my treasure chamber?""I climbed over the outer wall," said Pinky, lowering his gaze, "and then crawled through one of the tunnels - I don't think anyone else would fit." A pause, then he frantically added, "Captain.""Don't ever do it again.""Aye, captain."Sabeltann curled the chain around his hand and tugged. Pinky stumbled forward and onto his knees with an undignified squeak. He looked up, startled."Not good enough," said Sabeltann, looming over him. "Try again, pet."Pinky stared. "I - I promise to never, ever break into your treasure chamber again. Captain.""Better," said Sabeltann, inclining his head. "You serve me. That will be your punishment. If you're good, I might let you go."There was no room for complaints. It was this or death. "Aye, captain."Another tug on the chains. "And from now on, I'm not your captain," Sabeltann said. Pinky looked up in shock – Sabeltann’s expression was emotionless, eyes cold. "I am your master."
Relationships: (past) Pinky/John Boneless, Benjamin/OC (mentioned), Kaptein Sabeltann & Pinky, Kaptein Sabeltann/Pinky, OC/OC, Pinky & Benjamin, Pinky & OC, Pinky and King Rufus, Pinky and Raven (Raveena), Raven (Raveena)/Ebba
Kudos: 3





	Born to be Yours

#  Chapter One

Maybe sneaking into the great Captain Sabeltann’s treasure chamber wasn’t precisely the _best_ idea, Pinky decided, as he stood face to face with Sabeltann's blunderbuss. Sabeltann’s eyes dark and unforgiving, shadows deep. "You deserve the greatest punishment of them all," he said, tilting his head only ever so slightly.

Langemann moved forward, forcefully shoving the blunderbuss down as he stepped in front of Pinky. Pinky stumbled back into him, sticking close to his side. He lowered his gaze, unwilling to look at the fury on Sabeltann's face and the pain it would entail.

Death would surely come for them both now.

"Let me take care of him," Langemann said, "I'll find punishment."

There was a brief pause. Pinky dared not look up.

"No," said Sabeltann slowly. Deliberately. "But since it's you, Langemann, and no one else, I shall spare his life."

Langemann exhaled. "Aye, captain."

" _However_ ," Sabeltann continued, and Langemann tensed, "punishment must be had." Another pause, and then his tone changed from the dark, intimidating drawl to a sharper commanding one. "Langemann! I have business I need to take care of. You can go to the party."

Langemann nodded, then went for the door - and he pulled Pinky along.

"No," said Sabeltann, putting the blunderbuss to Langemann's chest. "The puppy stays."

Langemann threw Pinky a brief, worried glance, then disappeared out the door.

Pinky was left alone with Sabeltann.

"Well then," said Sabeltann, "come on." He tapped the blunderbuss to Pinky's shoulder, pushing him towards the door at the back of the room. With Sabeltann every now and then touching the gun to his shoulder to direct him, Pinky was led through corridors and halls. He'd often dreamt of being here - of seeing the inside of these walls - but now that he was finally here, he didn't dare do much more than look at his own feet. Something told him Sabeltann would not appreciate his curiosity.

Sabeltann led him to an armoury. What could the punishment be? Would he set him to polish armour or count cannonballs? Clean the floors, maybe?

Sabeltann pulled chains out from a barrel, shackles at the ends.

Pinky's thoughts of cleaning disappeared in a flash.

"Are you throwing me in the dungeons?" Pinky whispered, fighting the urge to run.

Sabeltann scoffed, straightening. "What need do I have of a shrimp in the dungeons? No," he said, stepping over. "Raise your hands."

Pinky did, trembling. Sabeltann mumbled something beneath his breath, then snapped the shackles shut around Pinky's wrists before bending and doing the same around his ankles. Finally, he stood up, reaching around Pinky's shoulders to slide on a collar. The metal bit into his skin, cold as ice.

"How," said Sabeltann, straightening, "did you get into my treasure chamber?" In his hand, he held the chain connecting the shackles. Pinky stared at it. He'd seen no keys.

He better do as he was told.

"I climbed over the outer wall," said Pinky, lowering his gaze, "and then crawled through one of the tunnels - I'm so small - I don't think anyone else would fit." A pause, then he frantically added, "Captain."

"Don't _ever_ do it again."

"Aye, captain."

Sabeltann curled the chain around his hand and tugged. Pinky stumbled forward and onto his knees with an undignified squeak. He looked up in shock, hair falling out of his headcloth and into his eyes.

"Not good enough," said Sabeltann, looming over him. "Try again, pet."

Pinky stared. "I - I promise to never, ever break into your treasure chamber again. Captain."

"Better," said Sabeltann, inclining his head. He gave a light tug to the chains - not enough to jostle, but sufficient for Pinky to feel it all the way into his toes. "You serve me. That will be your punishment. If you're good, I might let you go."

There was no room for complaints. It was this or death. "Aye, captain."

Another tug on the chains. "And from now on, I'm not your captain," Sabeltann said. Pinky looked up in shock – Sabeltann’s expression was emotionless, eyes cold. "I am your master."

Pinky lowered his head, staring down at the stone floor. "Aye..." He swallowed, fighting for the words, forcing out, "...master."

"Good. Stand." Pinky stumbled to his feet. The chains rattled strangely. Sabeltann started walking away without another word, and Pinky tripped after.

His head was spinning. A servant? Him? For _Sabeltann_? He'd always wanted to work for Sabeltann, but - not like _this._ He'd wanted to be recognized, not put in chains and stepped upon.

And still - this _would_ put him in a fruitful position - and Sabeltann _had_ said that if he were good, he'd be let go.

Pinky raised his chin. He could be good. He knew how to be good.

He could do this.

***

Sabeltann led him to the private areas - a round room, probably in one of the towers, with a desk and shelves and bookcases. Doors led from the room - one, as Sabeltann courtly informed him, to Sabeltann's sleeping quarters.

"Here," said Sabeltann, and opened one of the doors, "is where you will stay during the nights."

It was surprisingly roomy - a window stood opposite of the foot end of the bed, which was covered in a wine-red, woollen quilt, old and molten. Beneath the window stood a desk and a chair with only three and a half legs, and on the floor lay a battered rug.

"You will not leave this room unless you have my explicit permission," Sabeltann said, before casting a look out the window. "It's late. You will learn your rules tomorrow."

Pinky nodded, glancing about the room.

Sabeltann tugged on the chain.

"Yes, captain," Pinky hurried to add. Another tug, harsher this time. "I - yes - yes, master."

"Good," said Sabeltann, inclining his head. "And you best remember." Without another word, he dropped the chains to the floor, stepped out of the room and slammed the door shut.

Pinky stared at the door for a moment, then closed his eyes and sighed. He'd have to get used to that.

He'd have to get used to a lot. Like sleeping in a bed. He still trembled from the adrenaline of being caught, though, so he wouldn’t be getting sleep any time soon. In search of something to busy himself with, Pinky walked over to the window, curious to what the view might be. The chains dragged awkwardly against the stone floor.

The whole of Abra lay beneath him, the village blooming from the harbour and then fading into the jungle. He could see nearly everything from here - the whole island – the ocean on the other side of the entrance – even some of the outer islands.

He stepped back from the window, nearly stumbling in the chains in the process. Frustrated, he bent to pick up the loose chain. It was still warm from Sabeltann holding it.

Pinky frowned, glancing down at himself to inspect the chains properly. It was simple enough, though it took a lot of space - six chains, five of which were connected to shackles on his wrists, ankles, and collar, ending in a metal loop, upon which the sixth chain hung, unused. Pinky raised his hands to feel along the collar around his neck. It was a bit too big, it seemed - not enough to be in the way, but enough to cause discomfort. The metal was heating, but still cold, and about two fingers wide. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles, however, were closer to three fingers wide – heating slower than the collar.

Pinky sighed, carefully placing the chain over his shoulder as he crossed the room. Folding aside the quilt, he crawled into the bed, arranging the chains around him as best he could.

It was going to be a long, awkward night.

***

He got no sleep that night. The bed was so still and so strangely soft, and the chains were bulky and alien. He dozed off once or twice, only to startle awake moments later due to feeling choked by the collar. By the time Sabeltann came to rouse him, he'd long given up on sleep, instead opting to sit by the window, watching the village slowly come to life in time with the sunrise.

Sabeltann nodded, mustache twitching when he opened the door. "Good. You have rules to learn, and things to do," he said. "Come here."

Pinky hopped down from the desk and rushed over, standing before him, uncertain as to whether or not he was to salute him or not.

Sabeltann held out his hand, palm up. "Chain." It took a moment, then Pinky hurried to pick up the loose chain, placing it in Sabeltann's open hand. "Good. Come."

There was no need to tug on the chain today. Pinky followed readily. "Your rules are as follows," Sabeltann said, turning on his heel to stare down at Pinky. The chandelier hung behind him, framing him in a golden light. "My word is law, and like law, it shall be obeyed." He went silent for a moment, raising an expectant eyebrow.

Pinky lowered his chin. "Yes, master."

"You are not to do anything unless you have my permission."

How strict were those rules? Did they extend to eating or drinking? Sleeping? Moving? Pinky found he couldn't bring himself to ask. "Yes, master."

Sabeltann put a finger beneath Pinky's chin, tilting his face up. "Lastly, you are to always be nearby, but never be noticed. You are to be quiet and still, and never speak unless spoken to."

Pinky met his gaze, surprised to note - for the first time - that his pupils were dilated, like the ones of a cat or snake. "Yes, master."

Nodding, Sabeltann stepped back, letting go of Pinky's chin. "Breaking these rules will end with punishment."

Curiosity got the better of him. "What's the punishment?"

Sabeltann raised an eyebrow, twisted the chain around his fingers, and tugged so hard Pinky fell over, knees scraping against the floor. "Your life," Sabeltann hissed, looming over him, "a living hell."

Pinky stared up at him, heart racing. "Ah - un - understood." A sharp tug on the chains and Pinky squeezed his eyes shut, adding, "master."

Sabeltann scoffed, gesturing dismissively. "Get up."

It stung.

Pinky stumbled to his feet, glad to see he wasn't bruised. Sabeltann moved away, pushing aside his coat to fasten the chain to his belt.

***

The day progressed slowly. Sabeltann went to an office, first, silently handing Pinky maps and papers from shelves and drawers. Pinky carried them around half the castle, saying nothing, only cautiously and curiously reading what little tidbits of information he could. In the treasure chamber, Sabeltann took back some of the papers, squinting down at them before pulling out a chest. And then he sat there, for ages, counting gems.

It was later after Pinky had lost track of time that someone came knocking on the chamber doors.

Sabeltann looked up - and Pinky, who'd been drowsing off while watching Sabeltann work, startled awake. He dropped one of the maps in the process, winced, and bent to pick it up.

Sabeltann gave him a sharp look when he straightened, giving the chain a brisk tug. Pinky swallowed, bending his head. He understood.

"Enter," Sabeltann said, glancing down at the gems before snapping the small chest shut.

Benjamin stumbled into the room, offering a sloppy salute. "Captain," he started - but his gaze fell on Pinky, and he stopped. He stared, mouth opening – closing – opening again. "Why is Pinky...?"

"The shrimp is being punished," Sabeltann said courtly. Pinky looked away, shifting back as quietly as he could. It wasn't just that Sabeltann had explicitly told him to stay hidden - he didn't _want_ to be seen. Not like this – not now. Suddenly, the shackles and chains were far heavier than usual.

"...right," said Benjamin, though his gaze lingered on Pinky for another moment before he tore it away. "Your lunch is here, captain. But - it's only for one."

"Hm," said Sabeltann. "Tell them to make for two for dinner. But for now..." He nodded. "One is good."

Benjamin looked scandalized. "Aren't you - but isn't he supposed to _eat_?"

"That is not what I said," Sabeltann snapped. "Don't question your captain! Bring the food in."

Benjamin hastily scrambled to salute him again, then hurried out of the room, casting one last glance at Pinky before closing the door.

Sabeltann huffed, then pushed aside the papers on his desk. "Come," he said and tugged on Pinky's chain. When Pinky stood beside him, he inclined his head. "You may sit."

He did. When Benjamin a few moments later brought in a tray of chicken tikka masala, Sabeltann pulled out a spoon from his coat - placing it next to the bowl.

Pinky was still holding the maps. He swallowed, shifting his grip. If they fell now, it would inevitably lead to nothing good - and at the same time, he hadn't eaten since yesterday.

Sabeltann took a bite. Then another, and a third. He then grabbed the spoon that followed with the bowl, turning to Pinky. "Don't drop anything," he warned, before holding up the spoon.

He was going to _spoonfeed_ him? Well - if it were so, Pinky wouldn't lose the maps – and it wasn’t like he had any choice.

Pinky opened his mouth.

The tikka masala was hot. Pinky swallowed anyway.

And so it went. Sabeltann took some bites, then he fed Pinky, and repeat.

Eventually, they emptied the bowl. "Now, there," said Sabeltann, briefly pressing a napkin to Pinky's mouth, "you're fed. You should be grateful."

"Thank you," Pinky said, and he meant it. It took a moment and a burst of panic, but then he frantically added, "master."

"Good," said Sabeltann and patted him on the head.

***

They didn't leave the castle at all that day. Sabeltann spent hours counting and checking his various gold and treasures, scribbling down notes on several different papers and parchments. At one point, he set Pinky to polish the coins he'd already counted.

The sleepless night was starting to catch up to him. He'd had a good night's rest before this, though, and he'd gone for longer without sleep before. He'd be fine. He'd dealt with worse.

At least that's what he thought. They sat by the treasure chamber until long after sunset, Pinky polishing coins until his fingers were sore. He dozed off, once or twice, waking with a start whenever he started tipping over.

"You may sleep, if you need," Sabeltann said, sounding both exasperated and amused.

"I'm fine," said Pinky, and stifled a yawn, "just - a bit tired. Master."

Sabeltann rolled his eyes skyward. "Very well. The offer still stands."

Pinky nodded, then continued on polishing the coins.

He fell asleep on Sabeltann's arm, not ten minutes later.

***

He woke in the bed the next morning, the sunbeams piercing through the window, cradling his face. He sat up, the covers falling from his chest - the chains rattling.

Sabeltann must've carried him.

#  Chapter Two

It didn't take too long before he settled into life like this. Sabeltann wasn't cruel - not at all - and Pinky didn't have to be punished even once. There was the occasional tug on the chains, but he learned to accept that, and even they were few and far between.

Sabeltann left the castle, once or twice, and left Pinky with the orders to get familiar with the layout of the place. Pinky happily obliged, looking into every nook and cranny, searching through drawers and chests and shelves. He read whatever he could, as Sabeltann hadn't said he couldn't - explored every hallway and every room.

Then, after a week or so passed, Sabeltann courtly informed him he would be going down to Abra to oversee the building of a new ship, and Pinky was to go with him. Pinky didn't ask why, though he was curious.

Before they left the castle, Sabeltann pointedly fastened Pinky's chain to his belt. "The rules outside," Sabeltann said, "are the same as always. Do you remember them, pet?"

"Yes, master. Your words are law, I'm not to do anything without your permission, and I'm not to be seen."

"Good," said Sabeltann, and pulled gently on the chain - it was distinctively different from the usual tugs, in the way that the pulling motion lingered, and couldn't be interpreted as painful. Sabeltann had never stated it outright, but Pinky understood – it was praise rather than punishment. "We add more. Listen carefully: you are not to talk to anyone, even if they speak to you, unless I say you may. You are not to look anyone in the eye, and if you must look around, be brief."

Pinky nodded dutifully. The chains, not as awkward as they used to be, rattled. "Yes, master. I won't talk or look at anyone."

"And what happens if you break these rules?" Sabeltann asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

He hadn't stated so. "Punishment?" Pinky tried.

" _Good_ ," said Sabeltann, and pulled lightly on the chain again, bringing Pinky closer this time. He patted his head. "Stay as close as you can without being in the way."

Pinky was a bit nervous. He hadn't seen anyone other than Benjamin and Sabeltann the last few days, and now he was to face the village? No matter his feelings, though, he had no choice but to obey – Sabeltann commanded him.

He'd often been in the crowds of Abra, but he'd never been at the centre of their attention. He couldn't exactly say he was the centre now, either - not everyone cared about his presence - but enough people stopped in their tracks to stare and mutter for it to _feel_ like it.

Langemann showed up, as well. Benjamin had likely informed him of Pinky's situation, for he didn't look surprised at seeing him there, just pressed his lips together until his mouth was only a thin, pale line. When he walked past Pinky, though, he squeezed his shoulder briefly. Had it been anyone but Langemann doing it, Sabeltann would surely not have allowed it.

It was a 'hang in there' squeeze, and Pinky beamed, looking up to smile at Langemann - but he was already gone, having walked on ahead.

"Pinky!" A girl tore through the crowd, pushing aside a woman in her haste.

Before he could think, Pinky gasped, "Raveena!" stumbled towards her - towards the warmth in her eyes and the worry on her face.

Sabeltann tugged harshly on the chains, and Pinky staggered backward - hesitated - and looked away.

He stepped back to Sabeltann's side, saying nothing.

"Good," said Sabeltann, and pulled slightly on the chains. Pinky glanced over his own shoulder, casting Raveena an apologetic look. Her expression was so utterly lost.

Sabeltann was warm beside him, the chains still against Pinky's chest, and he couldn't quite make himself regret looking away.

***

Pinky stood quietly by while Sabeltann inspected the boat, coming with small mutters and comments every now and then. Pinky himself had not been told to look away from things like these, and so he listened eagerly to everything being said, taking in every word.

"Well?" asked the woman overseeing the building process – Raidah Fallon was her name - worrying her hands. "What does the great and glorious Captain Sabeltann think?"

Pinky cocked his head, squinting at the ship. As far as he could tell, it seemed just fine - Sabeltann hadn't voiced any apparent concerns, either.

"It's usable," said Sabeltann simply, and that was the end of it.

***

When they were back at the castle, the doors closed behind them, Sabeltann ran a hand through his hair and turned to Pinky. "So," he said, "how do _you_ think that went?"

"I'm sorry, master," Pinky said, thinking back to Raveena, "I wasn't thinking."

Sabeltann raised a single eyebrow. "I thought it went quite well."

Pinky blinked. "But Raveena - " There was the slightest tug on the chains, and he immediately shut his mouth.

"Precisely," said Sabeltann, and the tug became a soft pull. " _Very_ good. You're learning faster than I expected."

A smile spilled onto Pinky's face, and he straightened, heat blooming and spreading like fire. "Thank you, master."

For the first time, the title rolled smoothly off Pinky's tongue.

***

There wasn't much stability about this life, but they settled into a routine anyway. Sabeltann would wake Pinky, courtly inform him of the daily plans, then move on to do whatever tasks he had to do. Pinky would run about finding or fetching things for him, knowing the castle almost by heart at that point. By the time Pinky lost count of how many days he'd stayed here, Sabeltann let him read to pass the time while Sabeltann himself worked - as long as he was ready to follow orders whenever given - which he of course was.

It was while Pinky read a book about the history of carpenters that he looked up to find Sabeltann watching him intently, brows furrowed.

Pinky put down the book. "Master?"

"The Grim Lady will be going on an expedition," Sabeltann said, folding his hands. "We'll be gone for a week or two. I'm not sure what to do with you."

A light went off. This could be his chance! "I could come with you?" he tentatively tried.

Sabeltann scoffed. He didn't tug on the chains, simply because they were lying on his desk and not in his hand, but Pinky felt the ghost sensation of a tug either way. "Don't be ridiculous. You'll fall overboard and drown."

Pinky bent his head, recognizing the fight as lost. There would be no point in arguing or discussing.

"But I'm not leaving you here alone, either," Sabeltann continued, tugging at his mustache. "Who knows what you'll end up doing."

"I'll be good," Pinky hurried to say, "I can be good, master, I promise."

Sabeltann ignored him, tapping at his chin. "I can't do without Langemann - he doesn't approve either way, even if the fool thinks he hides it - Benjamin, though..."

"But Benjamin isn't allowed in the castle," Pinky said. "Is he, master?"

"Of course he isn't," Sabeltann said. "You'll have to stay with him. Understood?"

"Understood, master." He went quiet for a moment, then rushed to speak before Sabeltann could. "Will I obey him like I obey you? I mean - with orders and stuff."

"Good question," said Sabeltann, inclining his head. "Yes - and _no._ You are not his, but he works for me, and so you will listen."

"I understand, master." And if it were still a little bit confusing, then he'd just have to figure that out with Benjamin.

***

"So," said Benjamin, scratching at his neck. They were sitting by his dining table, a poor excuse of wood falling apart.

"So," said Pinky.

Benjamin picked at Pinky's chains, lying heavy on the tabletop. "There's gotta be a - a keyhole, or - or something, right?" he asked, gesturing vaguely towards Pinky's wrists.

Pinky, who'd investigated his shackles long ago, nodded. He shifted his wrists, pressing his nails into the small, dark gap on the rim of the metal. Benjamin bent forward, inspecting the metal. Pinky raised his hands and felt along the top of the collar until his nails slipped into another gap. "And here," he said, to alert Benjamin to its existence.

Benjamin exhaled through clenched teeth. "Is there a key?"

"I'd assume that," Pinky said, "but I've never seen it. I don't know." He considered his options, then added an uncertain, "sir." He was still chained, even if Sabeltann wasn't here.

Benjamin winced. "Just," he said, "just call me Benjamin. Please."

Pinky lowered his gaze. "Yes, Benjamin."

"I don't think I can pick these," Benjamin said, tugging absently at the chains.

Pinky grit his teeth. He hadn't done anything wrong - Benjamin just didn't know what he was doing. He _knew_ that, but he couldn't help the wave of guilt either way. "Pick them?" he asked, instead of mentioning it.

"Yeah," said Benjamin, sitting back. "You know, lockpick them?"

A wave of panic. "Don't," Pinky blurted. "They, uh, they're supposed to be on."

Benjamin looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Why?"

"Because master said so."

"He - you call him - " Benjamin cut off, brows furrowed even as his mouth twisted in confusion.

"Yeah," said Pinky. He hadn't disliked it from the beginning, but he hadn't exactly liked it, either - but now it was a habit, and one he'd rather not break – just for the sake of keeping the habit up. Attempting to change the subject, he asked, "How long are they staying out this time?"

"Didn't the captain tell you?"

"He said a week or two," Pinky said. "But I thought you might know more?"

"That sounds about right, actually," Benjamin admitted. "You can never know for sure. Weather and stuff, you know?"

"Yeah," said Pinky, despite not knowing, at all.

This was going to become some very long weeks.

***

Living with Benjamin right after staying with Sabeltann for weeks was strange. Benjamin was absent, in a way Sabeltann never was, almost purely because he never held Pinky's chains. There were no rules, and no expectations, which shouldn't feel as weird as it did - living with Langemann had been the same - but he'd settled in comfortably with Sabeltann.

Benjamin's natural 'do what you want' attitude was pleasing - flattering, even - but not what Pinky wanted.

***

Benjamin seemed just as pleased as Pinky when they received word the Grim Lady was returning from expedition. They were both at the front of the crowd when the ship docked, Benjamin being dragged aboard to help. Pinky was left alone, watching as ropes and sails were fastened and tied.

Sabeltann set first foot on the ground, and relief welled in Pinky at seeing him. No more Benjamin awkwardly stepping around the topic of Pinky's chains - no more Benjamin in general, really.

Pinky hurried over to him, the crowd splitting to let him through, their gazes falling to his collar and cuffs. When he got close enough, he fell into step beside Sabeltann, so close they were almost bumping into each other.

"Ah," said Sabeltann, casting him a glance. There was a brief, fleeting smile. "Good." He held out his hand, palm up, and Pinky handed over the chain. Immediately, Sabeltann wound the metal around his hand, giving a gentle pull.

Pinky allowed himself a brief moment of basking in the knowledge that Sabeltann knew what he was doing and knew what it meant, then ducked his head, smiling.

"Have you behaved, pet?" Sabeltann asked.

"I... think so, master." He'd have to ask Benjamin, but Pinky would rather not see him right now.

"Of course you have," said Sabeltann, and winked. "Come on."

***

Pinky, lying half-across Sabeltann's desk with his face-first into a pile of golden coins, decided he should probably have less rum the next time Sabeltann offered. Now, to be fair, Sabeltann had poured himself a glass saying he 'deserved it, after spending so much time with those fools' - but still.

Looking up at Sabeltann through his bangs, he figured that while it was far from his place to speculate, Sabeltann should probably have less, as well. Sabeltann was leaned back in his chair, cheeks flushed as he giggled helplessly at Pinky.

"You are," Sabeltann said - stumbled in words - gestured a bit loosely with his hands, "absolutely... adorable."

Pinky's face heated up, and he ducked his head, pressing his cheek against the cold coins. "I... thank? You?" he said, though the flush went through his whole body, warming him from top to toe. "Master..."

Sabeltann shifted in the chair, leaning over onto the table, supporting his chin in his hand. He hovered closer than usual, his hair free from his hat, cascading in dark waves down his arms and shoulders. "The sea was strange," Sabeltann said, closing his eyes.

"Oh?" Pinky mumbled, the word muffled by the coins. He shifted; the chains were pressing awkwardly into his stomach and thighs.

Sabeltann opened his eyes again, and they had a strange solemnity to them, as though Sabeltann was caught somewhere in-between drunk and sober. "You weren't there."

"Oh," repeated Pinky, and he looked away, pressing his face harder into the coins this time, all to hide his aching smile. When it calmed down a bit, he looked up at Sabeltann once more. "I missed you," he admitted, and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol talking or what, but admit it, he did.

Grinning, Sabeltann stood from the chair, reaching for Pinky's chain. "Let's get you to bed," he said, and rose - and though he stumbled, for a moment, he regained his balance fast.

"Okay, master," Pinky muttered, leaning against him as they walked.

***

He slept well that night.

***

They didn't talk about it the next day - or any day - but there was a sort of ease between them afterwards.

***

"Captain."

Pinky slunk back into the shadow of Sabeltann, watching Langemann discreetly. Langemann inclined his head to Sabeltann, gaze flickering briefly to Pinky.

Sabeltann, who sat in his chair, gestured vaguely. "Langemann."

"May I speak to you? In private?"

Sabeltann gestured again. "Go ahead."

Langemann's gaze flickered to Pinky again. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Just... the two of us..."

There was a long pause. Sabeltann turned to Pinky. "Leave the room," he said, then raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward, "but wait right outside the door."

There was an unsaid command in that - or, less a command and more stated permission.

Stay close - listen, if you want - don't get caught.

Pinky pulled away, accepting the chain when Sabeltann handed it over, placing it over his shoulder. "Understood, master." He nodded, then slipped out of the door, shutting it softly behind him. Almost immediately, he stepped closer, pressing his ear to the wood, listening.

"What news, Langemann?"

"No news, captain. Only..." A pause. "Permission to speak freely?"

"…Permission granted."

"How... don't you think that Pinky has... been punished enough?"

Another pause, then Sabeltann said, quietly, "do you question your captain?"

"No, not at all." Pinky rolled his eyes. Langemann definitely questioned him. "But captain, it's been nearly six weeks... how long before I can expect him home again?"

A gentle clink; Sabeltann must've put down his glass. "The pup," he said, and raised his voice just the slightest bit, "has proved far more valuable than I first expected." The slightest pause. "Don't expect anything, Langemann."

" _Captain_ ," Langemann hissed, "he's _sixteen_ \- still a child to many!"

"Not to me – not to the laws of this land," said Sabeltann, "and not to you, either, despite you looking through the lenses of a guardian. Tell me, Langemann, has he ever acknowledged your familiarity? No?" He scoffed. "You can't even communicate with him. I'm taking better care of your son than you, and he's my _slave._ "

Silence fell.

Pinky stood stock still, his skin tingling. It wasn't the first time Sabeltann had called Pinky his slave - though he most often used the word servant instead, they meant the same - and Pinky, quite honestly, was happy with being both.

"Was there anything else?" Sabeltann asked eventually.

"...no, captain."

"Then leave." Another few moments of silence, and then Sabeltann called, "Come on in, then." When Pinky re-entered the room, Langemann was gone. Sabeltann watched him, cautious. "Well?"

Pinky lowered his gaze. He didn't come closer. "Langemann is... he never told me..." He swallowed, trying to work out how to put his emotions - his thoughts - into words. "I see him as a guardian, yes, but - he never told me - why didn't he ever tell me...?"

"That the feeling is returned?" Sabeltann said. His tone was gentle. Pinky nodded, and Sabeltann sighed, turning in his chair to face him fully. "Langemann is a proud, stubborn man. He rarely admits anything - not even to himself."

Pinky was silent for a moment, mulling things over. "He said... he said he took me in because you asked him to."

Sabeltann shook his head. "He begged to keep you. From the very beginning."

"Oh," said Pinky quietly. His voice broke a bit on the sound.

Why would he beg to keep him for then to never be there? Or only care when what Pinky did concerned him?

Why would he _leave_ him so often?

Some of his pain must’ve shown on his face, for Sabeltann got out of the chair and sighed. "Come here," he said and gestured for Pinky to come closer. He did, hesitantly.

Sabeltann wrapped his arms around his shoulder and brought him into an awkward, stiff hug. Pinky clutched to him despite the awkwardness, burying his face in his shoulder – grateful for the offer.

#  Chapter Three

They were back down in Abra, overseeing the same ship as last time. Sabeltann was scrutinizing it, brows furrowed. It was understandable - he'd told Pinky after the last time that the ship would become the Grim Lady's sistership - a half-sister, and smaller in size, though still sisters. Her name was to be the Grim Shadow - meant to follow the Lady's footsteps, quiet and hidden. She wasn't done just yet, but she was starting to take shape, the hull’s skeleton nearly finished.

Sabeltann straightened. "She's decent enough. Continue like this, and she might be ready for the waters soon." He inclined his head to Raidah, the builder, who flushed and bent her own.

It was an honour to work on a ship like this, and she obviously knew.

Sabeltann turned to Pinky. "It will be another hour or so before I return to the castle." He took a bag of coins from his pocket, then pushed it against Pinky's chest. "Get me some parchment – I'm running out. Linger if you will." He handed the chains over with little ceremony, and Pinky nodded, pocketing the coins.

"Yes, master," he said. "Do I meet you here?"

"If I don't find you, come to the castle."

Pinky nodded again, then slipped into the crowd.

He made quick work of counting the coins, pleased to see that Sabeltann had trusted him with gold. Most of them were cobber - or silver - but there was an occasional golden one. It wasn't like Sabeltann wasn't aware they was there, what with his nose and all.

Parchment... hm. He'd never bought paper anywhere in Abra before, but he supposed Oliver might have it - though he'd never seen paper _sheets_ , only notebooks.

Oliver looked surprised when Pinky entered. "Pinky!" he exclaimed, a smile replacing the surprise. "Hi there, lad. How are you?"

"Fine!" Pinky said, smiling up at him. "I was sent out to buy parchment. Do you have any?"

"Ah," said Oliver, some of the joy fading. "Captain Sabeltann sent you?"

"Yes, sir."

Oliver sighed, leaning heavily onto the tabletop. "I'm sorry, Pinky. It's my fault you ended up in this situation. I shouldn't have mentioned the logbooks."

Pinky shrugged. The chains rattled. "I'm getting by," he said. "Master treats me well."

There was silence for a moment, Oliver staring blankly down at him. "Right," he eventually said, "yes, well, er - Captain Sabeltann never gets parchment from here. There's a stand at the marketplace - I believe the owner’s called Aske - he should have what you're looking for."

Pinky bent in a bow, briefly, in the way he'd gotten in the habit of doing with Sabeltann. "Thank you!"

The marketplace was crowded - most likely people who weren't too keen on watching Sabeltann inspecting wood, but still keen enough to watch Sabeltann, in general, to go home. Pinky ducked beneath and between people, looking for stands selling something even remotely similar to parchment. The crowd split for him, somewhat – more than they used to before he started serving Sabeltann.

Eventually, he did find a stand simply called 'Aske's' selling writing tools, among other things. Pinky trotted up and didn't get to say more than 'Captain’ before the keeper, presumably Aske, nodded, took his money, and went to find the parchment in question.

A shadow fell over Pinky while he tried to pocket the remaining coins. He looked up, saw who was blocking the sun, and sighed. "John Boneless," he greeted drily. "What do you want?"

"Well," said John, crossing his arms with a grin, "if it isn't Pinky. How are you finding life in chains?"

"Just fine, thanks," Pinky said, "now fuck off so I can pay."

"Pay for what?" said John, stepping closer, grin tilting up into something more _dangerous_. "Being a pirate? You don't stand a chance - look at you, you're a _slave._ "

Pinky glowered. "It is an _honour_ serving Captain Sabeltann," he spat, forcing himself to remain still. "It's not my fault I'm closer to him than you'll ever be!"

He realized, surprised, that he meant what he said – and that his defence of Sabeltann – and himself – had come quicker than it would’ve before all of this began.

John growled, slapping the money bag out of Pinky's hands. It fell to the ground, the coins spilling across the stone. "You're just kissing his ass," he snarled.

"That," Pinky said quietly, "is my _master's_ money."

And now he had to pick it up, making himself vulnerable to John – damnit! – but it was either that or letting someone take the coins.

He glared, then sunk to his knees, starting to pick up the coins.

John moved too quick for Pinky to react. He grabbed his chains – and _yanked._ "You're just a _pet_ ," he said, and there was an undertone of surprise to the words. "You've sunken _low_ , Pinky."

"Let. Me. _Go_ ," Pinky hissed, scowling up at him. He remained sitting, subtly gathering as many coins as he could. "You have nothing on me."

A hush fell over the people closest to them – the crowd split – and a new shadow fell over Pinky

"And what, exactly,” said Sabeltann coldly, hands on his hips, eyes narrowed, “is going on here?"

Pinky breathed a sigh in relief. "Master," he said, grateful. The last of the coins went back into the bag, and he stood, the chains – still clutched in John’s hand – uncomfortably tight.

Sabeltann plucked the chains right out of John's grip, immediately loosening the hold on Pinky before looping the chain around his wrist. "Well done, pup," he said, as Pinky handed the coins back over. There was a pull on the chains - subtle, but there, and only for Pinky. "I knew I could count on you." He turned to John. "You, however," he said, and the scowl was back, "should watch your mouth, lest it's you who ends in chains."

John paled, stepping back. "I - yes, Captain Sabeltann, I - I will!"

"You should if you know what's good for you," said Aske, who'd just returned with the parchment, wearing a glare matching Sabeltann's. "Here you go, captain. Your lad here already paid."

"As I knew he would."

***

"I'm sorry."

Sabeltann looked up from the book. They were both sitting in the library, Sabeltann on a couch over by the lit fireplace. He'd been reading for some time now, and Pinky, seated in an armchair and feeling incredibly small in it, was starting to get restless. "For what?" Sabeltann asked.

"Today," said Pinky, picking at the chains in his lap. "With John."

Frowning, Sabeltann put down the book. "That wasn't your fault," he said, "and you dealt with it well."

Pinky didn't want to look at him, so he carefully kept his gaze on the chains. "You said - you said you might put _him_ in chains," he said. "Aren't I... am I not..."

_Aren’t I good enough, if you would replace me with him?_

"Oh, no, no," said Sabeltann, amused. "I meant prisoner chains, from the cells. You, pup, are more than enough."

Looking up, Pinky found Sabeltann's gaze glued to him, unreadable, yet almost _soft._

"You surprise me time and time again, Pinky - and always for the better. I'm very pleased with you. You're enough."

Pinky ducked his head, flushing happily. "Thank you, master."

There was silence for a moment, then Sabeltann sighed a bit. "Come here. You read, don't you?"

"Yes, master." Pinky hopped down from the chair and scurried across the floor, noting dimly that the carpet was rougher against his bare feet over here.

It was warmer, as well, flames licking eagerly at the logs in the fireplace. Something about the hot light erased the lines between them, and Sabeltann gestured for the empty seat beside him on the couch. "I do believe you might find this story fascinating. Come, read aloud for me."

"Master," said Pinky, even as he sat on the couch beside him, "I will, of course I will, but why do you...?"

"Well," said Sabeltann, and angled the book in such a way that Pinky had to scoot even closer to read. Their knees bumped. "Maybe I just like hearing you speak when I tell you to."

Pinky couldn't help the wide smile. Attempting to hide it, he tilted his head down towards the book and started to read.

***

A storm was raging outside. Pinky was staring stubbornly at his window, the rain ringing on the glass. He wasn't able to sleep - had struggled for a while now, but his mind wouldn't calm down. There was something about storms. He'd never been able to deal well with them.

His door - which he usually kept shut, but had left ajar today - left space for soft candlelight to spill into his room, falling onto the pillow. Sabeltann was not sleeping, either, and Pinky was incredibly curious as to why. The night was dark, and far from young - it'd been a while since Pinky'd been dismissed for sleeping.

Now, Pinky wasn't allowed to leave the room without Sabeltann's permission, but as far as he knew, he didn't need Sabeltann's permission to look at him – and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Mind made up, he nodded to himself before slipping out of bed and padding across the room. He lined up with the relatively wide crack in the door, leaning forward until he could peek around the wall.

Sabeltann sat by his own desk, a few lit candles flickering and casting golden light across his features. He wasn't wearing his usual cloak - only a silky shirt with sleeves that flared before fitting snug around his wrists. No rings adorned his hands, and no hat sat atop his dark curls. He was writing, a raven feather scratching soothingly against some parchment. As Pinky watched, lightning tore across the darkened sky, illuminating Sabeltann's face as it contorted slightly.

Pinky blinked. Was Sabeltann... frightened? A small seed of wonder - unbelievable hope - blossomed. Was Sabeltann like... _him_?

As though he'd heard the thought, Sabeltann looked up, their gazes locking. His pupils were nearly invisible, thin threads of coal in the icy blue. They stared at each other for a brief moment - Pinky debating slipping back into the shadows but ultimately deciding against it - before Sabeltann put down the quill.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Sabeltann said, levelling him with an uninterpretable look.

Pinky swallowed, nudging the door more open. The chains around his ankles rattled at the move, and he shuddered, pleased. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Sabeltann stared at him for a long moment, then looked down, hands going to the quill again. "That," he ground out, "is none of your business."

Pinky winced, glancing away. He should've known better - should've known that Sabeltann would refuse to open up to something like this.

He should've known – because he was the same.

But Sabeltann surprised him by sighing. "It's not your fault," he said, and Pinky glanced up, startled. Sabeltann still wouldn’t look at him, but he wasn’t writing with the quill – just holding it between two fingers, knuckles pale. "I'm... not..."

There was something to the drawn back, dulled pain in Sabeltann's eyes that made Pinky go against all the orders he'd ever been told.

He stepped into the light from the nearly-dead candles, tiptoeing across the floor to stand closer. A brief moment passed where he stared at the desk - the very physical barrier separating them - master from slave.

He considered –

And stepped around it, sliding up to Sabeltann's side to lean against his arm. "You're not okay," he concluded.

It worked like magic, Sabeltann's expression crumpling, his whole body shifting sideways to lean back against Pinky. "No," he said, voice croaking strangely. "No, I'm not. I'm not."

"Nightmares?" Pinky tried, and – grasped by reckless courage and the unreality of the situation – slid his hand down to gently brush his fingers across the back of Sabeltann's. His other hand pressed a thumb carefully into his elbow - not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor.

Sabeltann sighed, his fingers twitching - Pinky hesitated, but Sabeltann didn't pull away, so neither did he. "No," he admitted, "but sleep is... eluding me."

The _fear_ of nightmares, then. Pinky didn't say it aloud. "Do you want to sleep?" he asked instead. Sometimes distractions were better than anything. Sleep might not always be the _best_ to end up with if the nightmares were worse than the fear.

"I," said Sabeltann, and Pinky glanced up at him to find his eyes distant. "I..."

"Take your time," muttered Pinky, rubbing gentle circles into his arm. “It's okay, master."

Sabeltann looked down at him in plain surprise, the distant look in his eyes yielding to confusion. Whether he genuinely was allowing himself to be this open now, or if Pinky had just gotten good at reading him, he didn't know. "Why are you...?"

He didn't have to finish - Pinky knew what he was going to say. "Because you're my master," he said, in absolute, complete honesty. "I'm supposed to care for you." It didn’t matter _how_ he showed his care, as long as it worked. And, judging by how Sabeltann’s pupils were wider now than before, it seemed to do so.

Silence for a long moment, then Sabeltann turned slightly, twisting his hand - just a little bit, not much, but their fingers brushed together, and they both tensed. "And..." said Sabeltann, gaze flickering from Pinky to their hands, not quite pressed together, but close, "...do you?"

Pinky tore himself away from the sight of their nearly tangled hands, glancing up at Sabeltann. "Do I what?"

"Care."

Blinking, Pinky stopped the gentle rubbing. "Of course," he blurted, "of course I care. Why wouldn't I?" Usually, he wouldn't have dared to do this - not at all - but it was dark, and the candles flickered dangerously, and the rain hammered against the windows, and lightning crackled.

And Sabeltann twitched, their fingers brushing together again. His eyes glazed over, briefly, and Pinky took the chance to grasp his hand. It was awkward, fingers tangling in the wrong places, and he had to bend his wrist strangely to get a proper grip, but that wasn't the point.

"Master," Pinky said, lowering his voice but keeping the tone intent, "it's okay. It's okay. I've got you." Another shocked stare. Sabeltann had moved, subtly, leaning towards him, not only with his weight but with his _everything._ Pinky gathered all his courage, bringing Sabeltann's hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to the pale, blue-tinted skin. It had always fascinated him. Added to his slitted eyes, it was a wonder Pinky had ever thought him human.

"Pinky," Sabeltann breathed, and there was wonder on that breath, wonder and awe and astonishment.

Pinky smiled up at him, though his legs shook at the feat he'd just achieved. Relief must burn starch on his face, but he didn't care. Not when Sabeltann looked at him like _that._

"Did you want to sleep?" Pinky asked, gentle, coaching. Sabeltann nodded, some of his hair slipping down into his face. Pinky reached up with his free hand - mindful of his chains - tucking the hair into place behind his ear. "Let's get you to bed, then. Come on."

He helped Sabeltann to his feet, then walked with him across the floor, never letting go of the tangled mess that was their fingers. When they stood by Sabeltann's door, Pinky hesitated - he wasn't allowed in there, and had never seen the inside - but he didn't want to leave Sabeltann now, knowing he would only flounder in his distress.

Sabeltann stopped full-on as well.

"Master?"

"It's," said Sabeltann, "...cold." He grimaced, and swallowed, and didn't look at him, standing incredibly still.

Pinky thought he might understand. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked, hoping he knew the answer to that question.

There was a long pause. It crept, getting longer and longer until it nearly choked him.

Sabeltann exhaled. "No," he said, sounding broken.

Pinky chose not to comment, sensing it wouldn't make anything easier on either of them, merely nodding and pressing closer to his side.

Sabeltann's bedroom wasn't much bigger than Pinky's, but his bed was almost triple the size, taking up virtually all the space of the room. Pinky chose not to comment on that, either, instead part dragging and part pushing Sabeltann towards it, sitting him gently down.

He sat holding Sabeltann's hand, feet folded beneath him as he watched him, making sure Sabeltann was truly asleep before he untangled their hands and slipped out of the room.

Sabeltann's skin was soft.

#  Chapter Four

Sabeltann eyed him speculatively over breakfast the next day, but when Pinky caught him looking, he hurriedly glanced away.

"Anything wrong, master?"

"No, no," said Sabeltann. "Just... a dream."

A dream.

Sabeltann thought it was a dream? Pinky bit his lip, rubbing a thumb over the rough iron of the shackles wound around his wrists. It hadn't been cold in months.

Maybe it was best if he did. Pinky had nearly combusted last night when Sabeltann looked at him as though his heart was a bright star. He wasn't sure if he could take it if that became the norm.

And it wasn't so strange that Sabeltann didn't think it real, Pinky mused, lying in the darkness of his room and picking at his chains. It was odd - so dreamlike, and muted - their boundaries crossed, limits passed. Pinky had been so bold, and Sabeltann so vulnerable - scrubbed raw from nightmares, or the storm, or his own thoughts - his skin left aching to Pinky's cool touch.

***

Pinky fell sick. It happened nearly overnight - only a few hours before bed did he feel a bit out of it, and then he woke the next morning, and his whole body felt like mashed potatoes. He was barely able to do more than consider telling Sabeltann before he passed out into sleep once again.

When he woke, dizzy and with his vision failing, Sabeltann sat by his bedside.

"Master," Pinky slurred, trying to push himself up onto his elbows. The loose chain slid over the edge of the bed and onto the floor, dragging his wrists after it.

Sabeltann bent and picked it up, pulling aside Pinky's covers to gently place the chain back beneath them. "Lie back down," he muttered, patting his shoulder. "You have a fever."

"But," said Pinky, blinking blearily at him. "But I..." He had things to do. Tasks to get - orders to fulfill. He was sure he'd heard something about a meeting today, and Sabeltann usually wanted him there, in the shadows.

"No buts," said Sabeltann sternly. "Sleep. You're more useful hale and healthy." A small, nearly tender smile ghosted across his mouth. Pinky surely must've imagined it. "And it's boring without you around. Get better soon."

"I," said Pinky, and lay down, staring at Sabeltann in surprise, "I, I'll try?"

"Thank you." Sabeltann reached out to cup his cheek, his thumb brushing over Pinky's forehead. His hand was cold. It was soothing, and Pinky leaned into the touch, eyes slipping closed. Sabeltann hooked his fingers beneath the edge of Pinky's headcloth, gently pulling it off. He huffed, amused. "You should wear this less. You have hair like gold."

"Gold?" Pinky repeated, pleased. The most flattering description he’d heard before was ‘straw’, and that came from Oliver’s mouth. But gold…

Sabeltann loved gold.

"Gold," Sabeltann said. "Rest now. I'll check in on you."

***

Pinky had been sick before, so he knew what to expect. Sleep, dizziness, headaches. Exhaustion even when he was resting, and a consciousness drifting more than an untied raft at open sea.

He couldn't be sure what was dream and reality - likely there was a bit of both, Sabeltann checking in on him every now and then, and that bleeding into his sleep. There was only one instance Pinky was sure was real, simply because he didn't pass out halfway through it. He sat in bed, as well as he could, Sabeltann perched on his bedside, stubbornly holding a bowl of soup.

Pinky didn't like soup, and he told him as much, but Sabeltann only returned that with a fierce glare. "You have to eat," he said, pointing the gold-plated spoon threateningly. "And soup is best for your throat."

"My throat is fine," Pinky complained, but the words caught on the ache, and his voice croaked. "Maybe it isn't. Okay. Fine."

"Good," said Sabeltann, and huffed, shifting closer. He'd spoonfed Pinky often enough before. It wasn't a part of their usual routine every day - whenever Sabeltann was in a rush, he left Pinky to fend for himself, even when he kept accidentally dragging his chains through the food and making an outright mess out of everything. But if they had time to actually sit and enjoy the food, Sabeltann tended to feed Pinky with Pinky's own spoon every now and then. It was mostly because of the chains being in the way, no matter how Pinky draped them.

Somehow this felt different.

Tender.

The soup was hot, but not painfully so. Pinky swallowed dutifully but didn't manage to get down much more than maybe half the bowl before he shook his head, refusing to eat anymore.

Sabeltann sighed, lowering the bowl onto the bedside table. "Fine, then," he said. "At least you ate. How are you feeling?"

Pinky groaned, falling back against the pillows. The collar slid against his skin, pinching some of it, but he didn't care right now. "Stone. I feel like stone."

Sabeltann smiled, and though it was shrouded, there was amusement in it. His hand, resting beside the loose end of Pinky's chain, pulled lightly on it. Pinky didn't feel it, so to speak, but he saw the move and was filled with warmth nonetheless.

"Thank you," Pinky said, meaning to thank him for caring for him, but when Sabeltann looked at him, curious, the words faltered and withered into a pathetic, "uh, for the, er, the soup."

"Of course," said Sabeltann, and patted his hand.

As far as Pinky was concerned, there was no 'of course' about that, but he didn't comment.

***

Langemann tended to enter a worried frenzy whenever Pinky as much as coughed, calling in every single woman he knew in a pathetic attempt at trying to figure out what was wrong. When it came to light, as it always did, that there was nothing he could do, he often pulled away entirely. Sometimes Pinky lay sick at home while he was off on expeditions. He was used to fending for himself, even when the sickness lasted a whole week.

Maybe it was the unusual care, but Pinky got better after only a few days this time.

He wasn't sure if he could call the change in their relationship a _shift_ \- not after something as simple as Sabeltann complimenting him on his hair when Pinky had been so bold as to kiss his hand - but Pinky found it easier to _trust_ Sabeltann now. Not that he hadn't trusted him before - he'd had, simply because Sabeltann was Sabeltann - but now there was something more to it.

He'd had Sabeltann touching his cheek while feeding him cooling soup, and he wasn't sure if the tender warmth to it was imagined or not.

***

The Grim Shadow was nearly done. Raidah had requested Sabeltann come overview the process so far. Pinky had bitten into the self-imposed challenge of consuming every single book Sabeltann had about building ships and was eager to join.

Now he was squinting at the hardboard part of the brig's hull, confused curiosity heavy in his guts. He wanted to bring it up and ask about it, but Raidah was in conversation with one of her workers, and he didn't want to interrupt.

There was an irregularity in the wood - a spot of weakness. It looked remarkably much like the warning picture he'd seen in _The Who's and When's of Carpenters._

Frowning, Pinky leaned forward, brushing his fingers against the wood. It was such a tiny detail - the only reason he caught it was because he'd re-read that particular chapter of _Carpenters_ just yesterday. Such an _important_ detail, however - the plank in question had a single weak point, and if the weak point failed, then the whole plank would - and if the entire plank failed...

Pinky squinted, stepping back to look back at the part he was looking at. He winced; yes - if this plank failed, the ship would sink.

"You got something on your mind, little one?" It was Raidah, smiling at him.

Pinky bristled; he wasn't little at all, thanks! Though he in his younger years had been shorter than he'd like, he'd filled out quite nicely over the last few years. He opened his mouth to tell her, but thought better of it, knowing she worked for Sabeltann.

"His name is _Pinky._ "

Blinking, Pinky looked up - startled to see Sabeltann glaring coldly at Raidah, his arms crossed impatiently across his chest. His gaze didn't as much as flicker - not a sliver of hesitation hung in the air.

Raidah turned to Sabeltann, lowering her head submissively. "Of course, captain."

Pinky didn't like it.

She turned back to Pinky, and some of the dislike bubbling in him withered at the kind smile she shot him. "Sorry, Pinky - something on your mind?"

He worried his lip, fingers twisting around the cuffs around his wrists. It was cooling into early fall, and the cold crept into the iron, chilling his skin. When it got colder, it would be uncomfortable walking outside with all this metal close to him, but as it was, he could bear it.

"You may speak freely," Sabeltann said, uncrossing his arms with a small nod.

Pinky flashed him a smile, pleased at the knowledge Sabeltann could read Pinky as well as Pinky read him. "Which protocol do you follow?" he asked Raidah. Depending on the protocol, the blame and responsibility could change.

Raidah blinked, straightening in surprise. To her credit, the kind smile didn't change, though it lost some of its condescending edge. "AB4," she answered curtly, "though we've removed paragraph seven and replaced it with paragraphs three and six from A07."

Half of that made absolutely no sense to Pinky whatsoever, but he knew that both A and AB protocols followed the same ranking-and-overviewing system. He nodded. "I'm by no means a master of this," he said, masking his voice as apologetic, "but - this looks, to my unprofessional eye, a bit dangerous." He gestured towards the plank, uncertain.

Raidah leaned forward, and Pinky caught, from the corner of his eye, Sabeltann doing the same. "Oh!" Raidah exclaimed, worry painting her face. "Oh, no - I mean, yes - I see what you mean. This isn't good at all."

Half a moment’s pause, and then Sabeltann stalked forward, exclaiming, "Treason?" His glare was furious, pupils thin and hard.

"No, master," Pinky spoke calmly, stepping in between Raidah and Sabeltann. He placed a gentle hand on Sabeltann's elbow even as Raidah stumbled back. "They follow the AB protocol - Raidah isn't in charge of overseeing this - it's not her fault.”

Sabeltann was staring openly at him, pupils softened - rounded.

Pinky blinked. “Master, are you listening?"

"Yes," Sabeltann said almost immediately. "And... you're certain?"

"Quite," Pinky nodded. "Either one of her workers is plotting against you, or they simply didn't know better." He cast Raidah a questioning look, and she hurried to explain.

"They're still learning - some of them are volunteering for extra credit for their finals - they must not have known," she said, bashful, her neck bent.

Pinky still didn't like it.

Sabeltann absently toyed with the loose end of Pinky's chain - the part that lay over his shoulder; Pinky tilted his head subtly, giving him better access. "And what do you think, Pinky?"

"Your people are loyal," Pinky said, leaning towards him, hand still on his elbow. "They would not betray you."

Exhaling, Sabeltann brushed his fingers briefly across the soft flesh of Pinky's bare neck before pulling back. "You're right."

"Of course I am," joked Pinky, grinning before stepping away.

He barely even noticed Raidah staring at them in shock.

***

Later, she pulled him aside to quietly thank him, her hand on his shoulder. Pinky nodded, smiling, and figured she wasn't as bad as he thought.

***

With the quick approach of fall, rain and heavy weather were becoming more and more common. It took its toll on Sabeltann, Pinky noted, despite Sabeltann trying to hide it. Sabeltann had never disliked the dark, as far as Pinky knew, but when it stormed, his mood dropped spectacularly.

It wasn't all that strange, all things considered. Pinky knew that lousy weather when sailing a ship like the Grim Lady wouldn't lead to anything good - even if he wasn't on the sea at the moment of the storm, it was reasonable that the weather would still put him on edge.

It was a bit more than just 'on edge,' though.

Pinky watched Sabeltann from across the desk, tracking his slow movements. There was none of his usual pride or stubbornness to the way he held himself, only a tired distance, and Pinky frowned.

"Master." Sabeltann glanced up at him, and there was something strange about his pupils, as though they couldn't decide whether to be slit or not. "What do you need?" Pinky asked, for there was obviously something wrong.

Sabeltann put down the quill and closed his eyes, sighing. He raised his hand to rub slow circles into his temple. "I'm... fine," he said, but there was a tilt to his tone that spoke of lies. "I'll... _be_ fine.

Pinky stood, walking around the desk to lean against Sabeltann's chair. He might've thought it was a dream, last time, but Pinky would make sure he knew better now. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, hovering close - hesitating before placing his hand on Sabeltann's arm.

Sabeltann huffed but turned towards him, ever so slightly, head tilting down to meet him. "What is there to talk about?" he muttered. "It's just..." He trailed off, though, staring blankly at nothing. His expression was unreadable, and yet mallow in a strange sort of way, his mouth drawn in a thin line.

Pinky stepped closer, reaching out with his other hand as well, digging his fingers into Sabeltann's arm. He'd seen him do this before - he could disappear for hours if no one brought him back. "Do you need a distraction?"

Sabeltann glanced over, returning to the moment - at least for now. He said nothing, a troubled expression flickering over his face as he twitched, shifting towards Pinky, closer.

Pinky swallowed, the pieces finally piecing together. "Do you... want me to touch you?" he asked, gentle.

Sabeltann snapped around in an instant, eyes wide, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. It took a moment, but then Pinky flushed, realizing what Sabeltann had interpreted his words as.

Pinky had meant touching as in what he was doing now - to ground and anchor. Sabeltann had read into it as something... more.

...but was he wrong?

It would be a lie to say Pinky hadn't thought about it before. It would be an even bigger lie to say that Pinky didn't _want_ that. And if it pleased Sabeltann... well, that kind of was Pinky's job, wasn't it?

He inclined his head ever so slightly; yes, Sabeltann heard him correctly, and yes, the offer still stood.

Sabeltann stared at him for another moment longer, expression _truly_ unreadable this time. "And..." Sabeltann said, voice hushed. His throat bobbed. "...would you?"

"Anything for you," Pinky said, and - caught in a moment of bravery - lowered his voice and tone, adding, " _master_."

It took Sabeltann by surprise, and he leaned back in the chair, head thudding against it. "I," he said, swallowing and swallowing again. Pinky eyed his throat and wondered how he'd never been hungry for this before - if it stemmed from holding himself back, knowing it could never happen - or if he'd simply not seen the appeal before.

Well. He saw it now. He _really_ saw it now.

"Please," said Sabeltann, and Pinky's mouth ran dry. Sabeltann had _never_ said please before.

Sabeltann _begging._

He didn't even stop to consider what he was doing - didn't stop to reflect where he wanted this to go - only shifted, squeezing in-between Sabeltann and the desk. Stopping to make sure Sabeltann was still on board, he did his best to crawl into the chair, one knee on each side of Sabeltann's thighs. Straddling his lap, he was mindful of his chains. He spent a moment fumbling with them to get them out of the way - his knuckles brushed against Sabeltann's inner thighs as he did, and Sabeltann's breath hitched.

Pinky looked at him, uncertain. "This okay?" he asked, quiet - one hand pressed against Sabeltann's chest to steady himself, the other on his hip.

"Are you," said Sabeltann, his pupils dilated and soft. "Are you ser - _okay_? I - yes. Yes, it's - yes."

"Good," said Pinky, and pressed his mouth to Sabeltann's throat. It was a close-mouthed kiss, brief and fleeting before he shifted, opening his mouth, exhaling.

Sabeltann tilted his head back, a small, soft sound escaping him. One of his hands fell to Pinky's thigh, and Sabeltann tensed, keeping entirely still.

Pinky smiled but didn't pull back, staying close enough to mutter against Sabeltann's throat. "It's okay," he said, "go ahead." He kissed again - openmouthed and near. "It's okay," he repeated, raising a hand to tangle it into Sabeltann's hair, tilting his head more to brush his nose across his jaw. "Master..."

Sabeltann said nothing, but his hand shifted, fingers sliding over Pinky's hips. Pinky followed the unspoken request, moving closer. Gently, he reached up to breathe hot on Sabeltann's ear, grazing his skin with his teeth.

Sabeltann _gasped._

"Too much?" Pinky asked, sheepish, pulling back. Sabeltann's expression was open and raw, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face. He shook his head - an undertone of desperation to it - and Pinky smiled, lightly dragging his blunt nails down the side of Sabeltann's throat he had yet to work on. "Alright, then. Tell me if I should stop."

He changed and shifted, going from the neck to the more sensitive skin of his throat. He bit down - careful, at first, then increasing pressure when Sabeltann didn't pull back - sucking, as lightly as he could, before letting go and licking the same spot.

Sabeltann's hands were on his hips, again, trembling - as though uncertain.

Pinky rolled his hips experimentally. There was hardness between them, rocking together at the move, and Sabeltann gave a surprised little sound. "Oh," he whispered and went utterly still.

Rolling his hips again, Pinky pulled gently on Sabeltann's hair as he kissed his throat again, using teeth as much as he dared. His skin was soft, a lingering taste of seaweed and ink and soap.

Pinky had a sudden urge to taste him proper - to have him in his mouth - to figure out his ups and downs and sensitivities. And if Sabeltann was this affected by simple kissing...

Unwinding his hand from Sabeltann's hair, Pinky reached down between them, fumbling along Sabeltann's length to get a feel of his size. He looked up at Sabeltann with a grin, then stepped out of the chair, kneeling between Sabeltann's legs.

Sabeltann stared, lips bitten.

Pinky raised his eyebrows, leaning forward, hovering above Sabeltann's crotch. His hands rested on Sabeltann's knees. "Okay?" he asked, to make absolutely sure, even though Sabeltann's flabbergasted expression spoke volumes. When Sabeltann gave no immediate response, Pinky reached out to trace the bulge in his pants, putting pressure right about where his head would be. "I need an answer before I can continue, master," he said, lowering his voice enough for it to nearly be a purr.

"Yes," Sabeltann blurted, "yes, okay, it's okay, I – ” Pinky cupped his dick through his pants. “ _Ah._ ” He spent some time just touching, curious. Taking some liberty, he bent down to nuzzle it, running his nose across the soft cotton. Sabeltann reacted to nearly everything - enough so for Pinky to quietly wonder if this might very well be his first time - and if not the first, then at least the first in a long time.

He was flattered.

It didn't take long before Pinky reached up to unbutton Sabeltann's pants - stopping first to have Sabeltann's permission before pushing the pants open and aside.

Sabeltann was both thicker and longer than Pinky, but not by much - maybe a centimetre or so. Pinky could definitely take him - perhaps two-thirds of his length, at most - he couldn't wait to try.

His skin was still that blue-tinted pale, though with all the blood rushing to Sabeltann's cock, the skin was nearing a more purple-blue colour than anything else. His pubic hair was as curly and dark as the one on his head. It looked just as cared for, as well.

Pinky was surprised but fascinated at seeing Sabeltann circumcised, like him - but this wasn't the time to ponder on that, he chastised himself, reaching out to carefully take his dick into his hand.

He fell into a familiar pattern of kissing the head, running the tip of his tongue over the slit, smiling against the flushed skin as Sabeltann made another of his curious sounds above him. Shuffling closer, Pinky grasped around the base, starting careful. Holding Sabeltann's dick in place with his lips and tongue, he used his other hand to push more of his pants aside, reaching down to cautiously caress his balls.

He spent some time reading Sabeltann's movements and responses, quickly figuring out his on's and off's. Having sucked himself off before definitely made the whole ordeal easier, even if this was from an angle he was unused to. It didn't take long before he got over that difference, and that, combined with knowing what Sabeltann responded to, made him relax a bit.

If anything was surprising about this, it was that Sabeltann was _loud._ Not just a little, either - every twist of Pinky's hands, every squeeze of his fingers - every lick of his tongue or bump into his cheeks brought forth some kind of sound. Whether that was a whine or a gasp or a sharp inhale - there was a _sound._ Compared to Pinky, who tended to muffle his own sounds, it was... very, very hot.

Having Sabeltann in his mouth gave for an excellent opportunity to explore him in detail, and Pinky was surprised at what he found. Bumps ran along the shaft of his cock, more so by the base. They seemed more sensitive than the rest of his dick. Curious, Pinky pulled away to tease the head - licking and kissing lightly - while exploring the bumps with his fingers.

When Pinky pushed down on the bumps near to the base, Sabeltann _moaned._ One of his hands fell onto Pinky's head, accidentally pushing off his headcloth in the process. Pinky ceased moving, waiting to see if Sabeltann would direct him to do something - move away, or move faster - or anything, really - but Sabeltann didn't, only carded his fingers through his hair with a soft little keen.

"How're you doing?" Pinky asked, offering Sabeltann a small smile while gently rubbing along the bumps.

Sabeltann had shrugged off his coat, leaving only a soft, silken blouse. Now he could barely turn his head to look at him, face flushed red, lips bit raw. His pupils were wide and dark, hips trembling beneath Pinky's touch.

So far, he'd managed to keep from rocking into Pinky's mouth, but Pinky wasn't sure how long he could keep up that game. "Close," Sabeltann gasped out, and there it was, his hips buckling as Pinky squeezed gently. He threw his head back, revealing the darkening marks on his throat and collarbone. "Close, _Pinky..._ "

"Good, then?" asked Pinky, using just the tip of his tongue to lick up the length of his cock. Sabeltann shuddered, mewling, and Pinky grinned, bending his head to take as much of him as he could.

" _Pinky_ ," Sabeltann exclaimed, hand fisting into Pinky's hair, "I'm going to - I'm - "

 _Good,_ thought Pinky and closed his teeth gently around Sabeltann's cock.

Sabeltann came with a cut-off moan.

He tasted different from Pinky, which wasn't much of a surprise. He didn't mind; it didn't feel _bad,_ just unfamiliar. There was a _lot_ more cum than Pinky was used to, be he didn't mind that, either, swallowing most before the taste had time to linger.

Sabeltann was panting - a small stripe of blood trickled from a cut on his lip. Pinky smiled softly and stood up. Bracing himself on Sabeltann's thighs, he leaned forward, licking the blood before giving the cut a quick peck and drawing back.

He couldn't deny the fierce burst of pride at seeing Sabeltann like this, undressed, hair a mess, expression somehow both lost and ecstatic at once. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took.

Even Pinky's own cock couldn't bring his attention away from Sabeltann right then.

He'd done this.

He'd _done_ this. Pinky. _Pinky_ had done this - to _Sabeltann._

The pride made way for a warmer kind of glow. "You feeling any better, master?" Pinky asked, and though it was meant kindly, it came out as cheeky.

Sabeltann turned his head - his body still lay limp in the chair - to look at him, incredulous. "Any b - any _better_?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "Are you - Pinky, I - don't know what to say..."

"Say good night?" Pinky suggested, patting his hand. "It's late. I'll clean up here. You go to bed, I'll take care of this."

Slowly, unsteadily, Sabeltann pushed himself up on shaky hands. "You... you're sure?"

Pinky hummed, pushing some of Sabeltann's hair out of his face. This close, the bags beneath his eyes were more obvious than ever. "You can clean up yourself tomorrow unless you really want to do so now," he said. He smiled sheepishly when Sabeltann raised an eyebrow. "I don't mean to overstep, master, but you look exhausted."

Sabeltann stared at him for a long moment. A ghost of a smile brushed over his face, and he sat up properly, carding his fingers through his hair. "Very well, then. If you say so." He stood, buttoned his pants again, and picked up his coat from where it lay on the floor. "If you need anything, you know where I am." He smiled, full-on this time. When he walked by Pinky, he held out his hand, palm up.

It took a moment, then Pinky hurried to pick up the loose chain, blushing at the slip-up.

Sabeltann pulled, and it was more than the familiar subtlety of 'I'm pleased' - no, this was something much, much more. It took Pinky by surprise, and he stumbled forward. Sabeltann kissed him swiftly, a lingering, hot press of mouth against mouth, swollen lips against swollen lips. He didn't let it continue into anything more, and when he pulled back, it was Pinky's turn to give him a flabbergasted look.

He hadn’t expected a kiss.

"You've been very good," Sabeltann murmured, pulling on the chains again. It sent a flare of heat and rekindled arousal to Pinky's cock, and his breath hitched. "I'm very pleased."

Pinky ducked his head, a smile bursting forth. "Thank you, master."

"Goodnight, now. I'll see you tomorrow," Sabeltann said, handing the chain back over before crossing the room and disappearing out the door.

One moment. Two. Pinky stared after him.

Three moments.

He wasn't coming back.

Pinky walked over to Sabeltann's chair and sat, closing his eyes as he smelled the air - the scent of cum and sweat clung to it.

God. God. Good _God._ He bit his lip, leaning his head back as he finally gave in and shoved a hand down his pants.

It didn't take much more than two or three tugs before he came in his hand, a whispered ' _Master_ ' on his lips.

***

Later, when he'd cleaned up everything - both himself and the room - he went back to his own room, sliding in beneath the covers to try and get some sleep.

It was fruitless. The darkness of the room pressed down on Pinky from all directions. His brain kept going over the _kiss._ Lazily, he tugged at his own dick, stroking carelessly in random patterns. It was more to busy his hands than anything - he could go another round if he wanted to, but there was no particular want in him right now. Just curiosity - confusion.

Pinky knew his own motives. He _understood_ his own motives. All he'd done was to please Sabeltann - to help him when he felt down. He'd enjoyed it, as well, as he'd predicted he would, but that was just an added bonus. He'd purposefully kept from kissing Sabeltann from the very beginning.

And then Sabeltann went and kissed _him_ instead, and when he was _done_ , of all things! What did he mean by it? Was it a gesture of gratitude? Was it payment of sorts?

' _You've been very good'_ and _'I'm very pleased'_ rung in his ears, and Pinky smiled, circling the head of his cock with a thumb. Maybe a promise - or a question?

He didn't know. Sabeltann hadn't told him, and he didn't want to presume things - not when it could break and shatter into painful revelations later.

One thing Pinky _did_ know, though, was that if Sabeltann let him, he would _love_ to please him another time, as well. There was a familiar slickness to his throat from swallowing the cum - like oil on skin - and the taste lingered, salt and smoke.

#  Chapter Five

When Sabeltann went to fetch Pinky the next morning, he'd already showered. There were purple and red-tinged bruises and marks on his skin - a particularly pretty one right by his Adam's apple, where Pinky had bitten down hard last night.

"Good morning, master," Pinky chirped, and Sabeltann rolled his eyes amusedly.

"Good morning, you little pest," he replied. The words were humorous and meant to tease, more than anything else.

Everything was as it should.

Except - not quite. Sabeltann walked closer to him than usual. Not by much - just the slightest bit - but enough for Pinky to notice. The realization made him go warm all over, a helpless smile overtaking his face for a few brief moments.

***

Sabeltann had just fed Pinky with his own fork. The one of gold. The one that had been in Sabeltann's own mouth mere seconds ago.

Pinky couldn't help but stare, just a little bit. Surely, Sabeltann was aware of what he'd just done? It couldn't have been a slip of his mind. This was _Sabeltann,_ after all.

And yet, there wasn't even a sliver of hesitation between them when Sabeltann ate another mouthful himself. He impaled a piece of chicken on the fork and pointed it over at Pinky.

Pinky opened his mouth, wide-eyed, closing his lips around the chicken.

Sabeltann raised an eyebrow. "A problem?"

"Ah," said Pinky, shaking himself back to the now. Sabeltann ate another piece himself. "No - no, master." He ducked his head. "None at all."

***

There were times, such as today, when Sabeltann would set Pinky to clean the armoury. Pinky had learned it meant more that Sabeltann needed some time alone rather than the armoury actually needing cleaning, but he'd never commented on it. He understood the need for privacy, and while he didn't always appreciate the alone time himself - he was far more used to people than isolation - he didn't argue.

"Well," Pinky muttered to himself, dragging a cutlass down from its perch on the wall. "You never expected to get here, now, did you?"

He grinned at his own expression in the metal; he'd changed, just the slightest bit, since he'd seen his appearance as a free man. It was more than just the collar and chains that adorned him - his hair had grown longer than how he usually preferred it - his headcloth needed patching.

And of course, as a free man, he'd never gotten to give Sabeltann _himself_ a blowjob.

In the time it had taken for focus to become adoration, Pinky had lost his grip on the cutlass, and now, when he tried to hold it up for polishing, the balance was off. It tilted over, slipping from Pinky's fingers, and the blade dragged along his upper arm, cutting through his shirt and sinking into his skin.

He yelped. The cutlass clattered to the floor.

The blood pressed forward before the pain settled in, and then Pinky sunk to his knees, clutching at his arm. His vision went white for a brief moment, and then he forced himself to breathe.

Breathe. He couldn't panic now. He'd gotten hurt before - he knew what to do.

Glancing down at the cut, he winced. Well... he _almost_ knew what to do. With careful, prodding fingers, he started inspecting the area around the wound. The blood was slippery and hot, but he didn't overthink that right now, instead trying to figure out the depth of the cut.

After double-checking with how much blood clung to the cutlass, he came to the conclusion that while the wound was relatively _long -_ going from his elbow and halfway up to his shoulder - it wasn't _deep._

He had to stop the bleeding, but there was no cloth in the room. The next logical conclusion was to use his shirt - but he couldn't take the whole thing off. He needed Sabeltann's help with that, due to the chains.

Gritting his teeth, he flipped the cutlass over, carefully making a small cut in the hem of his shirt before ripping the rest off with his right hand. He wrapped the cloth around the wound, then tied it off as well as he could.

The blood was stopped for now, but it wouldn't take all too long before he bled through the shirt. Pinky stood, his legs shaking. He'd have to tell Sabeltann.

The splatters on the ground and the cutlass he could clean later. If he bled all over the floor now, he'd just make everything worse.

When he finally found Sabeltann, he was in the library, curled up in a chair with a book. Pinky didn't bother looking at the tome or figure out what it was – he was in too much pain to focus much. "Uhm... master?" Pinky called, not too keen on walking into the room with his bleeding arm.

Sabeltann looked up, eyebrows knitted together. "Aye?"

"I, uh," said Pinky, and fiddled with his chains. "Something... happened.” He held out his arm.

Pinky didn't know it was possible, but Sabeltann paled. "What did you do?" he snapped, shooting up from the chair to stride across the room. The book lay forgotten on the floor.

"I, I just," said Pinky, suddenly nervous. Would he be punished for this? He probably would - stealing of Sabeltann's time like this - "I just - wasn't focusing - I dropped the cutlass..."

"You dumb fool," Sabeltann muttered, dragging him into the library and the light falling in through the nearest window. He made quick work of the tied cloth around Pinky's arm. Pinky tried not to think about how Sabeltann's fingers came back bloodied. "And your shirt..." Sabeltann said, with an exasperated sigh. "Why didn't you just take it off?"

Pinky raised his able hand, rattling the chains.

Sabeltann blushed a little. "Ah. Of course." He shook his head. "No matter. We need to get you cleaned up."

Fifteen minutes later, Pinky sat on the couch in the library, a white bandage wrapped around his upper arm. Sabeltann had said it would only take two weeks or so before he could remove the bandage and another week after that before he'd be healed.

"There's blood on the armoury floor," Pinky said, ducking his head and picking at the fringy hem of his shirt. "And the cutlass... I'm sorry, I... I'll go clean it up." He made to stand, but Sabeltann put a hand on his chest.

"Absolutely not. You're not to do _any_ heavy work in the next few days." Sabeltann stood. "I shall clean it myself."

Pinky blinked, shocked. But Sabeltann was - _Sabeltann_! Wasn't he _not_ supposed to do any work? Wasn't that why Pinky was here?

As though sensing his thoughts, Sabeltann smiled. "Before you came around, I had to do everything by myself," he said. "This really isn't all that different."

And Pinky watched him leave the room, mulling his last words over.

***

His arm healed well. Sabeltann took to checking the wound every other day, and after the first week was up, he removed the bandage for the last time. "It might scar," he told Pinky, touching gentle fingers to the scab.

"Good," said Pinky, amused. "Then I have proof I won against the terrible foe Mr. Cutlass."

Sabeltann gave him an utterly perplexed look, then burst into laughter so loud and heartfelt he nearly choked on it. "I'd rather say this... Mr. Cutlass... won the fight," he retorted, once his laughter was nothing but an echo cast back from the stone walls.

"Oh, not quite, no," Pinky said, shaking his head. The smile was threatening to split his face. "What does Mr. Cutlass have to remind him of the battle? Absolutely nothing. I have a trophy."

"You are a marvel, Pinky," Sabeltann said, and his smile was wide and real and honest.

***

Sabeltann was staring at him. It wasn't unusual; sometimes, he stared without looking, and most of those times, Pinky was the one his gaze fell on while he was deep in thought. This time, though, it didn't feel like Sabeltann was just staring emptily into the air.

Pinky cast him a look over his book. He hadn't been able to focus much anyway - this was his least favourite author by _far_. They had a dreadful way with words. "Master?" he prompted when Sabeltann's frown kept in place.

"The wound has healed, hasn't it?" Sabeltann asked, standing from his chair. He walked around the desk, bending next to Pinky to inspect his arm. He'd been right; the wound had scarred, but not severely. The cut had been clean, and Pinky had treated the scab well, so what was left was only a thin, pale line.

"Aye, master."

Nodding, Sabeltann prodded the sleeve of Pinky's wounded arm. It was nearly cut in two. "Time to get you out of this shirt, then," he said, tugging at the cloth. They hadn't dared take it off him before now because of the worry it might disturb the scab, but now, if it was healed...

Still. There was one problem. "What will I wear instead?" Pinky asked, genuinely curious. He owned only one shirt.

Sabeltann levelled him with a dark look. "Must you wear something?" he retorted.

A shiver went down Pinky's spine, electricity shooting straight to his groin. There was something about Sabeltann's expression that made it painfully obvious what he meant - what he wanted. Pinky remembered, in a flash, what it had been like to have Sabeltann’s cock in his mouth – the taste, the heat, the _sounds_.

"No, master," Pinky said, shifting in his chair, moving his chains subtly. "Of course not."

"Good," said Sabeltann. "Stand, and raise your arms." Pinky did; Sabeltann grasped the hem of his shirt and tugged upwards. His fingers brushed against Pinky's stomach, cold, and Pinky shuddered.

After a short wrestle match with his chains and shirt, Pinky stood bare-chested in the middle of the room, wearing only chains, pants, and headcloth. He looked at Sabeltann, heart hammering in his chest. "Well," he said, mouth dry, "what now?"

Sabeltann dropped his shirt to the floor and stepped closer. Closer. He reached for Pinky's head, fingers slipping beneath the cloth. Pinky met his gaze as he pulled it off, then carded his fingers into his hair, petting it gently. "Now," Sabeltann said, and he was so close - so close - there was barely anything between them except expectations and beliefs, "well..." He still held Pinky's chains, and now he pulled on them, drawing Pinky even closer. Pinky tilted his head up towards him, meeting his gaze greedily. They breathed the same air. Pinky could almost _hear_ Sabeltann's heartbeat. "Would you?" Sabeltann whispered, the words fanning hot against Pinky's mouth.

Pinky couldn't help but reach for him, fingers dragging over his coat before his hands settled on his hips, hesitant. "Would I... what?"

Sabeltann placed a hand on his chin, thumb smoothing over his lower lip. He tilted his head, closing the distance between them - Pinky trembled, reaching up -

Sabeltann stopped millimetres away. "Do you want this?" he asked, soft - almost _hesitant._ "I won't force you if you d -"

Pinky huffed, then lunged forward, kissing him hard. Sabeltann made a surprised sound before returning the kiss, and then his hands were in Pinky's hair and on his back and on his neck and _everywhere_ , and Pinky bit his lip gently, wrapping his hair around his hand as he stretched to kiss him better.

Sabeltann broke the kiss, drawing back just the slightest bit. "How far," he asked, stopping to breathe, "do you want to...?"

Pinky flushed, head to toe covered in heat - before it all rushed to pool in his stomach, his dick hardening. "As far as you want," he said, grinding against Sabeltann's thigh to show precisely how far he meant.

Sabeltann's eyes fluttered closed. "As far as I... how far do you...?"

Well, if he _had_ to beat it into his skull... Pinky reached up, pressing his nails into the skin right below Sabeltann's jawline even as he brushed his lips over Sabeltann's ear - not quite touching - but _there._ "I want you," Pinky whispered, and traced his tongue lightly over the flushed skin, "inside of me... _master..."_

Sabeltann shuddered beneath him, and then something akin to a _growl_ escaped his throat. He twisted, kissing Pinky again - and it was anything but pretty, a move born from desperate arousal, but Pinky didn't mind, returning it in full force. Before he knew, Sabeltann had them backed up against his bedroom door, and Pinky was folding aside his coat. The door opened, and they stumbled in, leaving a trail of Sabeltann's clothes – coat, hat, and shoes – in their wake.

They tilted into Sabeltann's gigantic bed, Pinky on top, ever-so mindful of his chains. Pinky burrowed his hands in Sabeltann's hair, biting into his lip as he pressed down against his waist. Sabeltann moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer, hand slipping into Pinky's pants to caress his ass.

Pinky broke the kiss, rolling his hips again, hands tightening in Sabeltann's hair. "What do you want?" he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to Sabeltann's throat. "What do you need?" He shifted his hips, grinding cock against cock.

Sabeltann let out a broken gasp, shifting to meet him. "Yh - you, I - want you..."

A jolt went through him at that, and Pinky grunted, sitting up - putting all his weight on Sabeltann's hips. "And you have me," he said, "but right now, you are wearing far too many clothes."

"Too many..." Sabeltann said, confused. His eyes widened. "Oh, right, aye - " He sat up as well, bringing their faces close together as he fumbled to take off his blouse. While he tugged it over his head, Pinky leaned against him, nibbling on his ear.

"Do you have any lube?" Pinky asked. The last time he'd done this - a drunken encounter with John, of which Pinky remembered only half and John remembered none - he'd done so without lube. It was something he'd rather not repeat.

Sabeltann nodded hurriedly, his hands tightening on Pinky's hips. "Bedside table," he muttered, and then Pinky bit down on his ear, so the next word became a muffled moan.

"Be right back," Pinky whispered, pressing his lips to the corner of Sabeltann's mouth - flicking his tongue out to taste him, briefly. "Get out of those pants, okay?"

Sabeltann nodded absently, hands fumbling for his pants. Grinning, Pinky rolled over towards the bedside table. A quick search found him a jar of coconut oil - that sounded about right, based on what he'd heard around town - and he pulled it forth before turning to his own pants. He'd figured relatively fast that they'd be nearly impossible to remove with his chains, as was his shirt, so he'd - with the help of Sabeltann - made adjustments that made it easier to do so. For his pants, that meant incisions secured by string - easy to take off. He did so now, pulling them off with ease born by practice before crawling back into bed

Sabeltann had gotten his pants off and was staring at Pinky with a mixture of hunger and amazement. Pinky smiled. "Hey," he said, and placed his hands on Sabeltann's chest. He trailed his palms across his skin, marvelling at the soft silkiness to the dark hair scattered there. Pinky didn't usually think of himself as someone with dark skin, but now, pressed close to Sabeltann's, the difference was startling.

"You're so soft," Sabeltann said, sounding nearly _surprised._ "I don't..."

"And you're beautiful," Pinky retorted, shifting to sit astride him again, straddling his hips. "Do you not want me to be soft?"

"No!" Sabeltann exclaimed. Pinky stopped, hesitant. He preferred it this way, but if Sabeltann wanted something else... "I mean," Sabeltann hurried to add, hands on Pinky's hips, fingers digging into his thighs, "be soft - be soft. I like soft."

Pinky smiled. "Good," he said, and leaned down, kissing him again. Their dicks were jolted together at the move, and Pinky gasped in surprise, shifting, then shifting back when the movement only felt good. He registered, vaguely, that he'd been right - Sabeltann was bigger than him, but not by much.

"Gods," muttered Sabeltann, pressing his forehead against Pinky's shoulder. He rocked his hips. "Gods, you feel good..."

"Yeah?" Pinky stroked a hand down Sabeltann's neck, following his spine, dragging his nails against his skin. With his other hand, he reached down between them, pressing a thumb against one of the bumps running along Sabeltann's shaft.

Sabeltann whimpered, shifting his head to nuzzle Pinky's throat. "Yeah..."

Pinky hummed, changing his grip, pressing down on more bumps - and Sabeltann grunted and bit down on Pinky's skin.

Pinky gasped, the gasp turning into a sigh when Sabeltann rubbed up against him, then a muffled moan when he pulled back only to bite down again.

His teeth were _sharp._

"Okay," said Pinky, and reached for the jar of coconut oil, "okay, yeah, I need you. _Now._ " He dug his fingers into the pot, bringing out a good scoop of gooey grease before smearing it over his fingers. Reaching behind him, he fingered his own hole, carefully working on stretching himself out.

Sabeltann stared, wide-eyed, his dick swelling further. "Pinky, I - you need to know, I - "

Pinky shifted, biting his lip to keep from gasping when he slipped in another knuckle. "Yeah?" he asked, putting a hand on Sabeltann's chest to steady himself.

"I might get stuck if I cum inside of you."

That made him still. Had he heard him right? "You - what?"

"Get stuck," Sabeltann repeated. He looked away, cheeks reddening for a completely different reason this time. "I'm not... human. Entirely. At least. It includes swelling when I cum."

Pinky wriggled his fingers around a bit, sliding a third finger in. "How long - _hng_ \- does it last?"

"Maybe twenty minutes."

"Mhm." Pinky moved to grasp Sabeltann's dick, languidly circling it with his fingers. "Sounds good to me."

It was Sabeltann's turn to blink in surprise. "It what?"

"Sounds good to me," said Pinky, and grinned down at him. He pulled out of himself, reaching for the oil anew. He dug his fingers into it, then rubbed it across Sabeltann's dick.

Sabeltann stared. "Are you seri - " Pinky raised his hips, grasped Sabeltann's dick, and sunk a good few centimetres down. "- ous oh my _Gods._ "

"Oh," said Pinky, and closed his eyes. He bit his lip, sinking another centimetre down, and then another - his hips trembled, and it felt _so good_ -

He let go and dropped all the way down to the base with a soft mewl.

Sabeltann went limp beneath him, as though he'd been holding himself together to not move.

Pinky stared down at him - at his own hands on his chest - at Sabeltann's expression, open, raw. Needing. His hair splayed out around him, and his eyes, pupils blown wide with want. For a moment, he was struck by the sheer beauty of him - of the powerful Sabeltann beneath him, caring, _listening -_ of the absolute _perfection_ of the whole thing.

"Move, master," Pinky said - _begged_ \- "move for me, _please._ "

They started slow, Sabeltann only barely shifting his hips, but eventually, it escalated - Pinky nearly bouncing on top of him, face buried in his neck as he bit and kissed. God, but it felt good. _God_ , but it felt good.

He'd fingered himself enough times before to know this was better than anything like it - Sabeltann was so big, and so filling, and so _good -_ and -

Sabeltann reached down between them, fingers closing around Pinky's cock, and Pinky came with a shuddered gasp.

Sabeltann slowed, hesitant. "No," Pinky breathed, pulling back to press his lips to Sabeltann's, "no, please, keep moving, I can go again - move, _master!_ " Sabeltann picked up the pace with a quiet moan, then, in a move that caused Pinky to squeak in surprise, flipped them over, burying deep inside of him. Pinky let his head fall back against the mattress with a cry, doing his best to meet each thrust. Sabeltann was still touching him - brief and fleeting, but _there_ \- and now he kissed him, biting his lips, then his ears, his neck, his throat, his collarbone -

Pinky came again, fingers tightening on Sabeltann's shoulders. It didn't take long for Sabeltann to follow with a moaned, " _Pinky -_ "

It took a brief moment, and then Pinky got what Sabeltann meant by swelling. He gasped softly, shifting to accommodate the sudden growth.

Sabeltann pushed onto his elbows, glancing down at him with what could almost be worry. He looked thoroughly fucked, his lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed. "You okay?"

Pinky gave a weak, breathless little chuckle. "I'm doing excellent, master, thanks for asking."

Sabeltann shuddered, then leaned down to bury his face in Pinky's shoulder, nibbling gently at his skin. "That was...” Sabeltann quieted, probably looking for words, before finishing with a lame, “great."

With Sabeltann laying on top of him like this, trapping the chains between them, there wasn't a lot Pinky could do with his hands - but he tangled what he could of Sabeltann's hair into his fingers. "Yeah," he agreed. "It was."

Sabeltann stayed still for a moment, then wrapped his arms around Pinky's shoulders, turning them over to the side into a more relaxed position. "Would you... be against doing it… again?"

It filled him with a warmth that was utterly different from the sex afterglow, and still very, very similar. "Not at all," he said, shifting to press his forehead against Sabeltann's collarbone. There wasn't anything else he could really say, but he wanted to say _something_ , so he muttered a weak, "master..."

They lay in comfortable silence for a long time. Pinky dozed off a little. Eventually, Sabeltann could pull out of him properly - doing so slowly, at Pinky's prompting. Together they cleaned themselves up, putting the jar of oil back in its proper place and wiping down Pinky's chains.

Then came bedtime.

Pinky stared at Sabeltann, awaiting orders - or suggestions - or a hint at all, really, for where Sabeltann wanted him.

"So," said Sabeltann, shifting awkwardly. He'd changed into a loose shirt but wore nothing else.

"So," said Pinky, who'd been given one of Sabeltann’s far too large black blouses.

"You – since you're here... you could... stay. If you want?"

Pinky smiled, slow and soft and warm. "Okay."

"What?"

"Okay, yeah. I want to stay. So I'll stay." He crawled into the bed, tugging lightly at Sabeltann's shirt to get him to follow. "C'mon, then. I'm tired."

And Sabeltann followed.

***

Pinky needed a new shirt. There wasn't even a question about it – his stripy one was torn and falling apart. "We'll look further into it later," said Sabeltann, apologetic, "but for now, this will have to do."

So Pinky took to walking around the castle with his own pants and one of Sabeltann's silky blouses, cut holes in to adjust to the chains. "You're certain, master?" Pinky asked, fingering the fringe.

"I have enough shirts," Sabeltann scoffed. "The damage has been done now anyway."

They were both covered in marks. Neither of them sat down to talk about it. Honestly, Pinky saw no reason to – his decisions to please his master were his own.

Sabeltann was nearly parading his marks around, though, leaving shirts unbuttoned and pushed aside, hair draped over his back and away from his face. He caught Pinky staring, once or twice, always answering his gaze with an impish grin.

To be fair, Sabeltann wasn't much better when it came to staring. Pinky had bruises and purple teeth marks adorning his throat and chest, and he didn't have anything to hide them with if he'd wanted to. Sabeltann's blouse on him left his neck and upper shoulders bare and hung loosely around his arms.

It was a good thing they weren't going down to Abra any time soon. Pinky wasn't ashamed of what he'd done, but he figured the stares might be a bit too much, even for him.

***

Apologetic. "We're going on another expedition soon."

Pinky wrestled with the disappointment, refusing to let it show on his face. "I suppose I'm not coming with?"

"Correct."

They were back in their usual roles – master and slave, on each side of Sabeltann's desk in the treasure chamber, Sabeltann fully dressed and fiddling with a quill. The purple bruise peeking over the hem of his coat was fading.

"Pinky." Pinky startled, looking up to meet his gaze. There was uncharacteristic solemnity in it. "I need you here. You'll do me more good in Abra than at open sea."

It sounded like an excuse. "Yes, master," he said, instead of complaining, lowering his head.

"Pinky, _look at me_. Good. I don't doubt anyone's loyalty here, but I need to be on the safe side." Sabeltann put down the quill, leaning onto his elbows. "You're here to spy. Do you understand?"

That… didn't sound quite as much as an excuse. "Yes, master," he said, lighter now. "What am I to listen for?"

Sabeltann gestured vaguely. "General village talk. I just want to know what they say of me behind my back – when they know I can't show up at any given moment."

"I understand, master." He'd still rather join an expedition, but at least this was more meaningful than being plopped down with Benjamin.

Wait.

He winced. "I'm staying with Benjamin again, aren't I?"

"Not at all," Sabeltann said, "I need full crew for the expedition. I've heard talk of a treasure north for the Marmalades." Pinky heaved a sigh of relief; Sabeltann raised an eyebrow. "How come? Anything wrong with Benjamin?"

"Oh, no. He's just… a bit weird about the chains." Pinky shrugged. "And the whole 'master' deal."

Sabeltann stilled, gaze falling to his hands. "I… see."

Pinky frowned. "Master?"

"And – you?" Sabeltann glanced up. "Are you… 'a bit weird' about… the chains? And the master deal?"

He blinked. He'd been, in the beginning, but he'd learned to appreciate it – the heaviness of the chains, the dragging of the metal, the way Sabeltann so easily could pull or tug as he deemed fit. "Do I have any choice?" he asked, instead of commenting on it.

It was meant teasingly: as a joke. Yet Sabeltann swallowed, expression conflicted.

Cold realization dropped in Pinky's stomach.

Before either of them could continue the conversation, a knock sounded on the door. Sabeltann shook himself, straightening before calling, "Enter!"

Gusto pushed the door open with his shoulder, carrying a tray of food. Sabeltann met Pinky's gaze and tilted his head; Pinky rushed over to help Gusto with the door. "Hello there, Pinky-lad," said Gusto kindly, smiling down at him. His gaze flickered to Pinky's throat, still marred by fading bruises, and the smile fell slightly. "How fare you?"

"Quite well," said Pinky, returning the smile. He refused to be bashful. "Excellent, in fact, thank you."

Laughing, Gusto moved to put down the tray of food on Sabeltann's desk.

"Ah!" Sabeltann exclaimed, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "Smells fantastic."

"Only the best for the King of the Seas," Gusto said, inclining his head. There was pride in the motion.

Sabeltann watched him leave, a thoughtful frown on his face. "His child, that girl – Raven?"

"Raveena."

"Raveena, of course. You're friends, aren't you?"

Pinky shifted; eyes downcast. The memory of that day in Abra, when Raveena had called his name, and he'd ignored her – it flashed brightly in his mind. "I think so."

"Hm." Sabeltann plucked at the quill. "They're loyal, yes?"

"Oh, aye, master. For sure." That he was certain about.

"Good. Come on then – time to eat." He gestured for Pinky to come over, dropping a quick kiss to his hair when he walked past. And just like that, the barrier between them was broken.

Though Pinky found himself wondering, later – did he have a choice? Would Sabeltann let him leave, if he asked?

And did Pinky want to leave, if he could?

He didn’t like thinking about it. He was too certain the answer would be ‘no’.

***

Pinky was to stay with Gusto, Beela and Raveena while Sabeltann was out on an expedition.

He wasn't sure how to feel about it. On one hand, he'd been great friends with Raveena before this whole thing happened.

On the other… this whole thing happened, and they'd less fallen out, and more jumped apart. At least from Pinky's side.

He had to admit he was a bit scared. Raveena's temperament was infamous on Abra – Pinky had been on the receiving end of it a few times, and he'd rather not be again.

"How long until you're back?" Pinky asked Sabeltann, the night before he was to leave, standing closer than he would've done just a week ago – before the marks.

Sabeltann held his chains, pulling slightly. "A week, two. Maybe three. I'll send a raven when we're on our way home."

Home.

Pinky wasn't stupid enough to think that Sabeltann meant _him_ when he said home like that, in that tone, but he could dream.

"Be careful?" Pinky asked, leaning against him.

"Always," Sabeltann muttered and bent to kiss him gently, lips soft. Pinky stroked a finger over the nearly-gone, yellowing bruise below Sabeltann's jaw, and Sabeltann chuckled. "You can make some new ones when I get back if you're worried about that."

Pinky flushed, but couldn't quite help but smile. "I'll hold you to that, master."

#  Chapter Six

He had no reason to be worried about Raveena. They'd been told beforehand that Pinky was to stay with them, and so when he approached with Sabeltann, she broke off from her parents to drag him into a tight hug.

"Pinky," she muttered, "oh, Pinky, I've been so worried!"

He couldn't hug back properly, not with the chains pressed between them and Sabeltann holding the loose end, but he did his best anyway. "No need to," he grunted in return, "Raveena, please, I can't breathe."

"Indian tradition," Beela said drily. "Choke your guests before they're even inside of the house."

Sabeltann tensed.

"They're joking, master," Pinky said, breathless still from Raveena's tight embrace. "Raveena, I mean it, _let go_." She did, offering him a sheepish grin.

"Well," said Sabeltann, fingers tightening around the chain one last time. "If you do him anything, I'll know," he said.

Gusto raised his hands. "Not to worry, captain, we'll take good care of him."

Sabeltann nodded. "Make sure to do so." He glanced down at Pinky, and his expression flickered oddly for a moment, as though he wished to speak, but didn't know what to say. "I'll be back." He said it like it should be a threat.

Pinky only heard a promise.

Sabeltann handed the loose chain to Raveena, who dropped it like it burned. Pinky rolled his eyes and bent to pick it up, flinging it over his shoulder in a familiar move. "Looking forward to it," he said honestly.

"Captain!" It was Langemann, calling over to them from the harbour. He didn’t look at Pinky. "We're leaving!"

Sabeltann put a hand on Pinky's head as he left, and then he was gone.

***

Being with Raveena was almost more awkward than being with Benjamin. Benjamin, at least, did not pry for information. Raveena sat side-by-side with Pinky on his bed, kicking her feet delicately.

"So," she said.

"So," said Pinky.

"How have you been?" She turned a smile on him - a blinding, award-winning smile that felt incredibly, utterly wrong.

Pinky returned it as best as he could. "Do you want the honest answer or the one you'll prefer?" It was a genuine question. He wanted to be honest with her - if nothing else, then at least for their lost friendship - but he wasn't blind. He knew how the other villagers and crewmembers had reacted to just the _thought_ of his marks.

Raveena scoffed. "The honest one, of course, are you mouse-brained?"

He laughed, at that, tilting his head back. "With master? Aye, I quite think I am. I've been... amazing. God, Raveena, I've had such a great time, it's so weird, I never thought I'd like bowing to someone like I am now, but - master takes care of me. He takes _good_ care of me." He traced a fingernail over the iron around his wrists, smiling. "And I like to think I take care of him, too."

"Hm," said Raveena, and reached for his face, grasping his chin. She tilted his head this way and that, inspecting first his face, then his neck. "He did this," she said, "didn't he?" Pinky flushed instantly, face and ears heating. Raveena huffed, pulling back to give him a stern look. "Were you willing?"

Pinky cast his eyes down. "He bears matching ones," he muttered. "And - and I initiated. Both times."

"And you're alright?" Raveena asked. There was obvious worry in her tone, even as he crossed her arms sternly, her hair - once such a crow's nest, but now settling into tamed braids - falling around her face. "He's not making you do anything... I don't know, anything weird?" She scoffed a bit, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "I don't need to stage an escape?"

He laughed again, more honest this time. "No, you don't," he said. "I adore this. Honest. I'm... being appreciated in a way I've never been before." He bit his lip, considering how to put his feelings into words. "You know how I always wanted to be a pirate? One of master's crew?"

Raveena nodded uncertainly.

"Well - it wasn't to be a pirate, really. It was to work for master. To be recognized by him. And, well..." He smiled, tilting his head and pressing his fingers against where he knew the darkest of the bite marks were. "I am.” He shrugged a bit. “I am."

"Hm," said Raveena, once again. She plucked at his chains, placing them in her palm, weighing them. "You know, I don't... get this. I don't understand the whole deal with the chains - or the master - or, I guess, the sex. And I miss you. I've missed you so much. But... if you're happy..." She gave a lopsided, helpless shrug. "I'm not going to stop you. Though I would appreciate it if you stopped by more often. You're the same as always. I _do_ miss you."

Pinky smiled, and though it wobbled, he could honestly say it was a genuine smile. "I've missed you, too." It was true; he hadn't given her much thought, but when he had thought of other things than his immediate surroundings, he'd strayed to her before anyone else. "I can't promise it'll be better, but - I can promise I'll try."

"Sometimes, that's enough," said Raveena, and smiled.

***

Somehow, being free with Raveena was different from being free with Benjamin. It was... fre _er_ , in an odd sort of way. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He'd told her about his mission from Sabeltann, and she'd agreed to help him, her eyes sparkling in childish glee. It was so similar to the way they'd always been together that it almost ached.

They came up with constant excuses for going to the marketplace to buy things for Gusto and Beela, tip-toeing around to listen for clues and half-made conversations. Rarely did they find anything, and when they did, it wasn't often more than a light, 'wonder when the King returns again' or, 'do you think the captain will bring back any treasures this time?'. They had fun, though, even when Raveena stumbled in Pinky's chain or the blouse, still too big, got caught on a stray piece of wood.

When they returned home to Gusto and Beela, they were laughing and cheering, Raveena's face flushed dark.

Raveena spun on him with a wooden broom, a spark of challenge and mischief in her eyes, and it took Pinky a whole few moments to realize what she was challenging him _to._

"What of the chains?" he asked, giggling, already going for the nearest broom. "I haven't practiced with them on."

"And?" said Raveena, raising her eyebrows, grin blinding. "What if you're challenged? You can't exactly slip out of those iron-shackled bastards!"

She'd changed, Pinky realized with a start. She'd grown more than he expected those months they'd been separated.

And Pinky, during those months, had grown lazy. There hadn't been time or space to practice, much less anyone to spar with - and while Pinky had been off sucking Sabeltann's dick, Raveena hadn't put down her mock-sword.

He lost. Spectacularly. It wasn't even because of the chains, though they played into it as well - it was through sheer neglect.

"Oh," said Pinky, grinning at her across the wood, "you're _on._ "

"You've gone soft!" Raveena exclaimed, mirth in her voice. "What happened to you?"

Grimacing, Pinky accepted her hand, being hoisted to his feet. "Lack of practice. Not really a lot of people to spar with, up in the castle."

Worry crept into her eyes. "Do you get lonely?"

"Not at all," Pinky assured her. "I'm with master most of the time, and the crew comes up every now and then - besides, we visit Abra regularly."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Raveena shot forward, shifting into attack position, feet sliding against the ground as Pinky tripped into defence. "Let's see if we can fix that whole thing, then," she ground out, hair coming undone from her braids. "Can't have Captain Sabeltann's slave running around defenceless!"

Cold dread filled Pinky at the thought. Less _him_ being defenceless, and more the idea that Sabeltann might get hurt due to Pinky's lack of practice. "No," he agreed, pushing back against her, "we can't."

He lost again. At least it wasn't as bad as last time.

***

The hardest part about this whole ordeal was an unexpected thing Pinky hadn't given a single thought to: eating. It had taken only a few meals heavy with sauce and soup and Pinky dragging his chains through the food before Gusto and Beela swapped it out for drier finger foods. They hadn't commented on it, which Pinky appreciated, but they'd looked at him with something akin to pity, which he didn't appreciate even half that much.

("How do you usually deal with that?" Raveena had asked, and Pinky had flushed bright red, muttering, "he feeds me.")

Dinner was a family thing in the Beela household. Everyone gathered around the table, talking while they ate, and no one left before everyone had finished up. It was a very cozy affair, Pinky had to admit, and for him, who'd never had a family, it was a glance into what could've been. There was no secret that most of the island had expected him and Raveena to get together – they had even thought so themselves, at some point in their youth, that they'd find each other attractive over time.

They hadn't. Pinky had come out to her as gay, she'd come out as pansexual, and they'd gone on with their lives. After a clumsy attempt at making out first, of course, because sometimes that's just what friends do.

"So," said Gusto, breaking a naan bread apart with a friendly smile, "how long left?"

Pinky – for it'd been directed at Pinky, he could tell – looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"

Beela, who sat by Gusto, smiled as well. There was a touch of something weird in that smile. "How much more before you're free?"

Pinky blinked. Raveena, who sat by _him_ , cleared her throat and pointedly glanced down at his chains. "Oh," Pinky said, cheeks heating. "Oh, no, er – I don't know." He didn't particularly care, either.

"What?" Gusto put down the bread. "Hasn't he told you?"

He gave a somewhat lopsided shrug. "I didn't ask."

"But," said Beela, frowning, "but – why not? Aren't you – I don't know – surely it can't be _good_ living like this!"

"Er." Pinky glanced over at Raveena, hoping to find some kind of help there, in any form. He found none, only a pained expression and pale knuckles. "I don't… particularly mind. To be honest." He managed a small, uncertain smile. He was starting to feel sick. "I – have… found a sense of purpose, I suppose."

"But _Pinky_ ," Gusto gasped. Pinky put down his food, swallowing – his vision swam. "You're in _chains_! I have nothing but respect for the captain, but – it's been months! Whatever you did, surely it can't merit punishment as harsh as this?"

"Excuse me," said Pinky, and stood, not looking at any of them. "I, uhm." He winced, then shook his head and left out of the room – starting to run – out of the inn – into the streets.

"Pinky!" Raveena yelled after him, but he didn't care – couldn't care – only continued on ploughing through the crowds.

Yes – it had been meant as punishment. It had been supposed to be punishment. He _knew_ that. But – only a week ago he'd had Sabeltann inside of him, and just some weeks before that, he'd had his cock in his mouth, and Sabeltann had come undone beneath him.

It wasn't _punishment._ Not in that way. Sabeltann fed him – cared for him –

Pinky was happier now than he'd been in years, and it hurt to admit it, both to himself and others. How couldn't anyone else see? He felt like the sun had settled down in his chest – wasn't it _obvious_ for anyone looking?

Everyone who didn't understand – Benjamin, Oliver, John, Raidah – Gusto, Beela, _Langemann._ So far, only Raveena had accepted, and even she didn't fully _understand._

Pinky wasn't sure if he understood _himself._

He found himself coming to a skidding halt at his and Raveena's old hideout, right at the outskirts of the jungle. They used to go here when they wanted to get away from everything else – responsibilities and hopeless dreams alike. It was still theirs – untouched, except for the addition of a new blanket.

Right now, he didn't bother checking the area – if it indeed was as untouched as it looked at first glance. He snatched up his old wooden sword, abandoned here when he was fourteen and never picked up again. It'd been too big for him back then, but it was the right size now, fitting snugly into his palm, just the right length and weight.

They'd set up a pole for practice, and it bore old bruises of previous practice rounds – though Pinky ignored that. He fell into old patterns, bursting forward, then back, defend, block, parry. Langemann had taught him this set, he remembered, and with a fierce pang of anger, he shifted his feet out of his stance, changing sides.

Langemann, who'd chosen him once and never again. Who Pinky had looked to as a dad, who Pinky had _needed_ as a dad... Langemann, who hadn't as much as _glanced_ at him since he was found in Sabeltann's treasure chamber.

But this stance – this was Benjamin – kind, funny Benjamin who used to carry him around on his shoulders until he got too heavy, and then a bit more just for the sake of doing it. Benjamin, who he'd called uncle only once even though it felt so utterly right – Benjamin, who'd changed when Pinky did.

Pinky cried out, twirling the wooden sword around to ram it into the pole – but it caught on his chains, tangling in them. Growling, Pinky yanked on it in an attempt to get it loose – it failed, of course, only succeeding in pulling at his own skin.

It hurt.

The tears were flowing before Pinky knew it, and he scowled, twisting the sword around until the chains fell away – and then he began anew, trying desperately to look for a pattern he hadn't been taught. There was none. All he was – all he knew – it had been someone else's first. That jab was Raveena, and that other was a trick he'd learned by spying on John, and the footwork there was Oliver –

"Anger won't fell the tree."

Pinky choked on a sob, spinning to face Raveena, solemn and serene. There was muted sorrow to her eyes. She held her own wooden sword, fingers tight around the handle. It was raised before her defensively, a position that said she was ready for attack.

Pinky didn't let her wait, darting forward in a sharp move. He let all his frustration bleed into it – all his confusion, and anger, and defeat – hoping Raveena could somehow _sense_ that this was about more than her parents not understanding.

She blocked, ducking beneath his blows, never returning the hits – only taking them.

"Fight back!" Pinky yelled, the tears blurring his visions, every sob tearing through his chest. "Fight back, damn it!"

"Will you win if I do?" Raveena asked, as calm as ever, and for once, her braids weren't coming apart.

"Yes!" Pinky cried, and went for her abdomen, twisting beneath her arm –

She spun, meeting his blow head-on. Her eyes were cold. She moved like a snake, too quick for him to see, and maybe it was the tears, or perhaps it was his own stupidity. A blow there, a hit there, and he'd been dead if this was a real fight, but he couldn't let himself admit that.

Snapping her foot out, she tugged him off his feet, and he fell to the ground with a dull thud. When his vision settled, Raveena stood beside him, the wooden sword pressed to his chest.

"Anger won't fell the tree," she repeated, and there were depths of sorrow to her voice. "Don't you think I've tried? Those marks," she said, removing her sword to press her palm against the chipped pole. Pinky had barely left a scratch, "they're mine. I made them. After the festival, when you…"

Cold horror drenched the rage. His vision cleared, and slowly he sat up, every inch of him aching. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to…"

"But it didn't help," Raveena interrupted loudly. "Anger _won't_ fell the tree, Pinky! You have to realize that."

"Then what _will_?" Pinky snapped, climbing to his feet. The chains were muddy, twigs and leaves caught between the links. It was cold against his skin, but he didn't mind – it was anchoring. "If not anger, what _will,_ Raveena?"

" _My_ tree was fell by calm consideration," Raveena said, flipping her sword on him – a warning, more than anything else. "Though yours won't."

"What…?"

She changed her grip on the sword, shifting her feet. "Are you your own person, Pinky?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Wh – of course I am!"

"Are you more than just a pirate captain's pet?"

"Yes!" He _was_. He wasn't Sabeltann's pet – not solely – the chains symbolled other things than that!

Raveena advanced, an expected attack that still took Pinky by surprise as he scrambled to block. "Then prove it! _Fight_ , Pinky! Don't just toy!"

They sparred for hours, Raveena beating Pinky into the ground whenever he got too angry. She called out words of encouragement every now and then, correcting his stances, prodding at his feet.

"How is this helping?" Pinky asked, frustrated. "I'm my own person, not _yours_."

Raveena gave him a dry look, correcting his grip on the sword. "I'm not teaching you mine, you idiot," she said, "I'm guiding you. Every choice you make is yours. No one can take that from you." She raised her own sword, aligning the two of them, holding his gaze. "I'm not building your castle for you – I'm giving you the materials you need. Block!"

Pinky did, stumbling back through the sheer strength of her blow.

"I just," said Pinky, evading her next swipe, "don't feel like I'm doing any," - he recognized that next move, side-stepping it before panicking and switching hands with the sword - it caught Raveena unawares. He skipped a step to the right, put a knee in her back - she staggered to her knees - and pressed the flat side of his sword against her neck. "…progress...?"

Raveena laughed, loud and bright, twisting to beam at him. "You did it! You _did it_!"

Pinky, confused, fell back and removed the sword from her skin. "I - did it? You didn't let me win?"

"No!" cheered Raveena, skipping to her feet. She pulled him into a warm hug, squeezing the life out of him. "No, I didn't! I've never done that."

"Oh," said Pinky. The warmth was slow to creep upon him, but it was tender and heated, gentle in a way things rarely were with him. "Oh," he repeated, and returned the hug as well as he could, hands fisting into her shirt.

A two-second break, and then Raveena twisted him around and slammed him to the ground. "Now," she said, grinning, "do it again."

Pinky stared, flabbergasted, then broke into laughter.

***

The raven with the message saying the Grim Lady was returning reached Abra the very same day, and Pinky heard the announcement, warmth curling in his chest.

***

They often sparred the other days, Raveena coming upon him at random times and places around Abra. He took to carrying the sword by his hip again, just to be ready. Her parents never asked again about his so-called freedom, but by the way their gazes lingered on his chains, he knew they still thought of it.

The fighting with Raveena was the only thing keeping him grounded for a while. He re-learned old skills fast and new ones even faster - soon, he found his own patterns and moves, much to Raveena's glee.

One late night they sat on the roof of Gusto's Inn, watching the stars in a carefree way they hadn't since they were young. "I can tell you're happy," said Raveena softly, plucking leaves from her hair.

Pinky hummed, smiling. He leaned back onto his palms, gazing up at the skies and the specks of light peppered against the darkness. "You're the only one."

"I don't understand. You used to be so ambitious..." She trailed off, biting her lip. "You wanted so much."

"I wanted recognition and acceptance," Pinky retorted. "To be acknowledged and respected. And I am. Like this...?" He lifted his chains briefly. They rattled, colder than ever against his skin. He shuddered; they couldn't stay out here for long if he wanted to come out of this unharmed. "Like this, I... I have a purpose. I _am_ being recognized and accepted – and acknowledged and respected."

Raveena leaned into him, lending him her heat. She was soft - softer, now, than she'd been when they were younger. She'd filled out. But she'd gotten stronger as well. More mature. "Can we continue this? Later? When he comes back?"

"This?" Pinky asked, confused.

"Us," Raveena said, gesturing between them with a hand. "Our friendship... fencing. Fighting. I like this." She took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I like us."

Pinky chuckled, squeezing back. "I'm still gay, you know."

Raveena laughed as well. "And I have something going on with Elberthina," she said, and when Pinky looked over at her in surprise, her cheeks were flushed a pretty dark. "Ebba, you know? She prefers her full name."

"That stuck-up brat?" Pinky asked, unable to contain himself. Thankfully, Raveena only laughed.

"That's the one. She's changed as well, you know." She bumped their shoulders together. "I needed _someone_ to talk to when you just disappeared."

"I'm s - "

"Stop apologizing for it," Raveena said. "It's _fine."_

Pinky sighed, squeezing her hand again. "Alright, then. And... I think we might be able to. If I play my cards right."

Raveena snorted loudly, then buckled over, chortling. She gasped out, in-between laughter, "you mean if you give the captain a good blowjob?"

Pinky flushed, then swiped at her. He missed by a few inches, so he yanked gently on her braid instead. "I'll have you know, I give _outstanding_ blowjobs."

That had her laughing anew, tilting her head back - her joy a gift to the stars.

Pinky watched her, content purring in his belly.

***

Only three days later did word arrive at the inn that the Grim Lady was returning from an expedition. Pinky rushed to the harbour, Raveena at his heels, their swords clanking together as they ran.

Sabeltann stood aboard, his hair flowing freely down his back. His expression was as calm and calculated as ever, but when he lowered his gaze, seeking out Pinky in the crowd, a small smile fluttered across his face.

Pinky beamed back, inclining his head. Everything was as it should be.

Before he could tear apart from the crowd to meet Sabeltann, though, Raveena grasped his elbow and asked a simple, single question.

"Do you love him?"

***

Pinky lay awake that night, nestled in against Sabeltann's chest, chains trapped between them. New marks and bruises were forming on them both, and Pinky traced an unusually large mark right by Sabeltann's nipple lightly.

_Do you love him?_

Pinky had never been in love. He didn't know what love was supposed to feel like. If he were in love, he wouldn't know how to tell.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to be able to tell. Even if he loved Sabeltann, Sabeltann wouldn't love him. Never as a partner.

‘Do you love him?’ What a ridiculous question, honestly – of course Pinky loved Sabeltann - he'd loved him since he was a child admiring his idol. He loved the pirate captain, and he loved the ambitious not-quite-human man, and he loved his master – but did he love him as a partner?

He didn't know.

He didn’t think so.

Sabeltann shifted, burying his nose in Pinky's ever-growing curls. Pinky smiled, moving to accommodate him. His ear pressed against Sabeltann's bare chest, and he closed his eyes, listening.

Oh, yes. Sabeltann had a heart, alright.

_Do you love him?_

No, Pinky concluded. He didn't love him - not in the way Raveena asked for, anyway.

He found it changed nothing.

#  Chapter Seven

Between going to Abra to check the Grim Shadow, running errands for Sabeltann, and joining him for his weekly "walks" (he called them walks, but Pinky knew better, seeing the way he tilted his head towards conversations they passed), Pinky found time to visit Raveena. Sabeltann knew and explicitly stated his permission every time, though he rarely went with him. Pinky wasn't sure if it meant he wasn't interested or if he was deliberately giving Pinky privacy, but knew that if he asked, Sabeltann would just scoff and say the former, so he didn't bother overthinking it.

It was mid-fall, and Abra was starting to show it. Leaves were turning, and temperatures dropping - Pinky, still waltzing around in torn pants and Sabeltann's too-big shirt, found it nearly unbearable to be outside. He made an offhand comment about it once, and Sabeltann took him to the marketplace the same day to get him warmer clothes. They made some careful adjustments to them together, and Pinky couldn't help but flush a pleased, content warmth when Sabeltann knelt beside him, hair pulled back in a string, sowing needle pinched between his lips as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Despite the clothes - which he did wear outside - Pinky preferred going with just the pants and shirt inside the castle's walls. It was cold inside as well, but not as much. Most rooms had thick carpets, and those who didn't, he rarely ventured in. It was an excellent excuse to sit close to Sabeltann by the fireplace in the evenings, sometimes sneaking in beneath his arm or falling asleep on his shoulder.

Pinky came back from fighting practice with Raveena once, trembling from the cold with no feeling in his fingers, and Sabeltann extended an invitation to Raveena the next day. She was welcomed to the castle twice a week to practice with Pinky, but only in certain rooms, and only if Sabeltann was there to allow her in. Raveena readily accepted, both Beela and Gusto looking baffled but pleased.

One of the accepted rooms - and honestly, the only ones Sabeltann had told Pinky were off-limits for Raveena were the private areas and the library - was the armoury. It doubled as a sparring area, though Sabeltann never used it. After only two practice rounds there, Pinky asked if they were allowed to use the cutlasses.

"The last time you used a cutlass, you got only a scar for your troubles," Sabeltann said drily.

"Due to lack of focus," Pinky insisted. "Please, master? If anything happens, we'll stop immediately."

Sabeltann sighed, toying with a strand of hair poking out beneath Pinky's headcloth. He took a moment to think about it. "Just be careful."

"I promise," said Pinky, and leaned into the touch, moving to kiss Sabeltann's fingers. Sabeltann blinked, unmoving, and Pinky grinned, kissing his hand again. "Found another thing you like?" he asked, familiar now with this particular tenseness.

It was one of the best parts of being Sabeltann's - getting to map him out, finding things about him even he didn't know.

Sabeltann twitched, casting a glance towards the clock on the wall. Chagrin flourished on his face. "We don't have time," he said, and the disappointment was audible in his voice. "Crew meeting in twenty minutes."

"Mm," said Pinky, and removed Sabeltann's hand from his face to kiss his palm. "Tonight, then."

Sabeltann's eyes were dark. "If you will."

Pinky nipped at his finger, tongue flicking out to lick the pad. It was enough of an answer.

***

The Grim Shadow stood finished in Raidah's workspace. They would have to hurry with a voyage if they wanted her on water before winter settled in, so Raidah had humbly requested Sabeltann to look her over. And of course, where Sabeltann went, Pinky followed. Even if that meant he had to follow bundled up in a furlined cloak and huge boots.

Raidah talked to Sabeltann for a bit, showing him different blueprints and handwritten notes, then cast a glance at Pinky. "Captain," she said, inclining her head, "may I borrow your..." She trailed off, uncertain. "...Pinky..." she finally settled on, "for a moment?"

Sabeltann shifted, his grip on Pinky's chains - usually so loose - tightening. "Master," Pinky muttered, quiet. When Sabeltann glanced down at him, Pinky gave the tiniest of nods - he was okay with it.

"If you must," Sabeltann said, and even though Pinky could hear the displeasure in his voice, Sabeltann handed him the loose chain.

"Thank you, captain," Raidah said. "If you'll follow me, Pinky?"

He did, listening as she went on to talk about the different wood types they'd used in the building of the ship, along with building methods and styles. He didn't really understand most of it - he'd moved on from boats to cutlasses and other pirate weaponry - but he followed as best as he could, nodding eagerly.

"I do believe she's ready," said Raidah, smiling distantly at the ship. She was painted the same as the Grim Lady, and at the back sat a skull - obscured and black, rather than golden. "I wish I could sail with her..." She sighed wistfully, reaching a calloused hand out to touch the side of the Shadow's hull. "It's been so long since last I was at sea... but no. I'm needed here."

It didn't sound like she believed it herself.

"You used to sail?" Pinky asked, curious about this dark-skinned, kind-eyed carpenter.

"Oh, aye." Raidah smiled warmly. "Used 'ta be a captain once. Long ago now, though. Spirit, she was called, and a beauty was she - she sank, not far from here."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Pinky said, and he meant it. He knew that to many captains - aye, to many sailors at all - their ship was home. Sabeltann would be devastated should anything happen to the Lady.

Raidah gestured vaguely. "Ah, it's in the past. It was a storm, not much I could've done." Her smile became distant again. "I miss it, I'll admit. I've found life here, though. I'm happy."

Pinky didn't believe that for once second. He'd lived with Sabeltann the last few months - he knew the sea longing like no other. He'd seen it on Sabeltann and saw it more and more often as time passed. For God's sake, he'd tasted it on his _lips_ when he broke him out of one of his episodes.

Maybe Raidah was happy here, but the longing had closed its jaws around her very core and would never be sated unless she was. And she wasn't, and she wouldn't be - not here. Not in Abra.

"Ah, but come, now," said Raidah, snapping him out of his musings. "Mustn't keep you for long, lest the captain thinks I've murdered you."

Pinky chuckled drily. "He'd have your head for that."

It wasn't before later that night, laying naked on Sabeltann's chest, he realized he meant it, and that it was true.

***

"Master?"

Sabeltann hummed, chin resting on his hand as he read. "Yes, pet?"

"Lunch." Pinky put the tray down before him with a smile. Sabeltann had been busy today and sent Pinky to wait for whoever brought the food up, so they didn't have to tremble their way through every door in the castle to find him.

It had been Benjamin bringing the food today, balancing the tray on one hand over his head. Pinky had laughed when he saw. "Show-off," he said, carefully taking the plates from him.

"No captain today?" Benjamin asked with a grin.

"Nope," said Pinky, peeking curiously at the closed bowl. It was warm even through the plate, heating his palms. After the blast of cold air when he'd opened the door, it was a welcome change. "He's busy writing lists."

"Again?"

" _Again._ "

Now Pinky rolled his eyes amusedly at Sabeltann. "You have ink on your cheek, master."

"Huh?" Sabeltann touched his face.

"Other one."

"Oh. I didn't realize, thank you." He reached for the bowl but didn't look up from the papers, missing the rim and dipping his fingers into the curry sauce.

Pinky snorted, then masked his expression into perfect innocence when Sabeltann glared, ink-cheeked and curry-fingered. "Are the lists giving you trouble?"

Sighing, Sabeltann put down his quill and wiped his hand on the napkins Gusto had the wisdom to include. "A bit. I'm trying to find crewmembers for the Shadow, but I need all _my_ men on the Lady..."

Oh! Now that was actually pretty interesting, compared to the other lists Pinky had caught Sabeltann writing – most of them endless numbers counting his golden coins, jewelry, or gems.

"May I see, master?" Pinky asked, leaning against the table.

Sabeltann wordlessly spun the parchment, pushing it across the table. Pinky leaned forward, skimming the different names. There were some he didn't recognize - Dortea, Rane, Aleksander, Marius - some he did - Rosa, among others - and some he was genuinely surprised at seeing. John, Simon, and Elberthina had all been written down, though John had later been crossed out four times over. Simon, he could understand, but... "I'd think John was the only capable of these three," Pinky said, despite the sour taste it left in his mouth. He didn't like helping John. "The Elberthina I knew..." He shrugged; how did he explain that blond curls, paper umbrellas and frilly dresses weren't designed for the sea if Sabeltann didn't already know?

Sabeltann straightened, leaning across the table to tap at her name. "The village speaks well of her healing hands, and we have no doctors on either Lady nor Shadow. Simon, her brother, excels at numbers and organization - I'd like them both."

"Why not John?"

Sabeltann scoffed. "After what he did to you? No." He cast Pinky one of the looks he'd learned to appreciate more than air itself. "You're _mine._ If he disrespects what's mine, he disrespects me." A dark shudder crept down Pinky's spine, and he cast his eyes down, uncertain of what he'd do if Sabeltann kept looking at him like that. "Besides," said Sabeltann, breaking the spell, "after Elberthina and John were betrothed as infants, they've been joined by the hip. If I split them up, and they still accept, it means they truly want to join."

"Or that loyalty matters none to them," Pinky muttered, frowning at the names.

"You think?" Sabeltann said, fingers creeping towards his quill.

"No," admitted Pinky. He'd never gotten to know Elberthina and Simon as well as he knew John - he'd honestly always sort of thought of them as lackeys - but they seemed like the loyal sort. "I don't think that's the case. Not with them." Hoping to distract Sabeltann from doing further work – Pinky was hungry, and if he was, Sabeltann must be starving – he cast his gaze to the other names on the list. "So - a doctor and... cooper? I'm assuming?"

Sabeltann inclined his head. "You assume right. The others..." He sighed. "Rosa would be a good quartermaster, but I hesitate to set her to be captain. She has a mighty temper, and an angry captain is a captain without respect." Pinky gave him an askew glance, which he thankfully didn't notice. "But if she isn't captain, I'm not sure who would be..."

In a flash, Pinky recalled Raidah, gazing wistfully at her own creation. "Raidah Fallon," he blurted. Sabeltann gave him a surprised look. "She used to be a captain before - and she built the ship, besides. No one knows it better than her." When Sabeltann still only stared, he swallowed, glancing away. "It... just a suggestion, master. Nothing more."

"Would she be willing?" Sabeltann asked, but there was the scratch of quill against paper. When Pinky looked up, Raidah Fallon was added to the list of names, a small 'C' written by it.

"I think so." Heat bloomed, inviting and warm. He’d listened.

"Excellent." Sabeltann sat back with a sigh, then reached for the bowl, grabbing it properly this time, to Pinky's great relief. "Now, I just need a Master Sailer..." He laughed drily. "As though I'll ever get my hands on one of those."

Pinky pondered that. He might know a potential candidate.

***

"So," said Pinky, blocking the incoming blow, "how do you feel about being a Master Sailer?"

Raveena lost out of sheer shock. "Pinky," she gasped, his cutlass pointed at her chest, "you know I can't - "

He rolled his eyes and drew back, sheathing the blade. "I asked how _you_ feel, not your parents."

Her eyes were wide and very dark. "It's the one thing I'd do anything to be," she whispered. "You know travelling lies in my blood, Pinky, you _know_ it."

Yes, Pinky did know. She didn't have the sea longing - she turned with soulful yearning not to the sea, but to the road - and yet, what is the ocean, if not a path?

"Yes," he said, "I do. If you could be one - would you?"

"My parents," Raveena began, wincing.

" _Would you_?" Pinky repeated

Raveena bit her lip, glancing away. It took a long moment, but then she looked at him, steel in her gaze. "Yes."

***

"Master? Do you still need a Master Sailer?"

"Do you have more additions I'd never think of myself but that somehow, strangely enough, work out?"

"Raveena," Pinky said. "Her dream is to be one. She'll do good."

Sabeltann frowned. "I thought she wanted to be a chef?"

"Beela and Gusto want her to be a chef," Pinky corrected. "She doesn't."

Sabeltann stared. Then he stared a bit more, something unreadable in his gaze. "I see," he said, and didn't say anything more.

When Pinky later walked by the table where the parchment lay, 'Raveena - M.S' was written with steady handwriting.

***

Two weeks later, messages had been sent to everyone desired for the Shadow's crew, and a week after that again, the ones who'd accepted their roles met with Sabeltann for orders and information.

Sabeltann and Langemann both stood on a wooden plateau looking out over the marketplace of Abra, where the future crewmembers stood gathered, staring at him in a mixture of apprehension, awe, gratitude, and determination. There was a crowd surrounding them, though at a distance, watching curiously.

Pinky stood behind Sabeltann, his chains linked to his belt, with orders to be quiet and still.

Raveena had accepted. She stood tall and grand, her hair sleeked back, belt and rucksack filled with parchment and maps and tools. Only her bitten lip and clenched fists spoke of her nervousness. Beside her stood Elberthina, skirt frill-less and hands empty. She was shifting from foot to foot, appearing uncertain about her place, but determined to stay. Simon had a hand on her shoulder, his expression proud. John, who stood at the front of the crowd, was scowling at them both.

Raidah stood at the forefront of the crewmembers, eyes shining. She saught Pinky's gaze, and Pinky winked, smiling. Her head was bent in gratitude. Rosa stood, legs spread far and arms crossed, an arrogant tilt to her head. There was a pleasure in her stance, though, and relieved grace.

Two identical women stood whispering excitedly to each other, looking harrowed yet still keeping a strangely feminine charm. Pinky assumed it was Rane and Dortea, but he couldn't be sure.

Pinky shrugged deeper into the fur around his neck, trying to warm the iron around his throat. In the cloak Sabeltann had gotten him there wasn't much of a problem anymore - at least not now, halfway through fall - but it was still slightly uncomfortable if the metal was in direct contact with air. He shuddered, rattling the chains in the process, not able to do anything about the chill around his ankles despite the boots pulled over the shackles.

Sabeltann glanced down at him, a brief moment's worry. He fingered the chain at his belt, pulling gently. Pinky flushed. It was a silent message - _you're doing well, I'm pleased, continue._

Sabeltann delivered the messages to the crew courtly, quick and to the point. They knew their roles and would be taught by their Lady counterparts if one existed, and if they didn't, the whole crew would step in. The date of the maiden voyage was in a week, and the days until then would be spent learning the ins and outs of each other and the ship and the Lady's crew. Sabeltann would be involved in the process, though not closely - he'd had a chat with Raidah about how much she knew from before, and she'd calmed his fears about inexperienced captains. Together they would only discuss rules, and signals, and methods.

The gathering was completed with information on when and where to meet the following day. And so they all split up, going to each their own.

Pinky glanced at Langemann as the crowd trickled away, dull frustration sharpening the blade of his anger. He wouldn't look at him. He _still_ wouldn't look at him.

Why wouldn't he _look_ _at him_?

It was a stupid question. Pinky knew why – he _had_ heard the conversation between Langemann and Sabeltann.

"Langemann," Pinky said. Both Sabeltann and Langemann blinked, surprised - both of them turned to look at him, Sabeltann in curiosity, Langemann in confusion. "I'm okay, you know."

Langemann's gaze flickered. "What… do you mean?"

"I'm okay," Pinky repeated. "I'm fine. Like this, I -" He raised his hands, rattling his chains a bit more aggressively than was, strictly speaking, necessary. "I don't mind. Now, will you please _stop ignoring me_?"

Langemann shifted, averting his eyes and shuffling his feet. "I'm not… I just don't - I'm not at the castle, and -"

They stood there for a moment, Langemann trailing off into an awkward, halting silence. After a while like this, Sabeltann scoffed. "You're wasting my time, Langemann. Either give a less pathetic excuse or leave."

Langemann turned away. "I'm… sorry, Pinky. I really am. I just can't…" He didn't continue, only walked away, shoulders tense and gait stiff.

Sabeltann stepped closer to Pinky, subtly placing a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed, brushing his finger against the fading mark beneath Pinky's ear. "It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s not your fault.”

Pinky sighed, tilting his head towards him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Sabeltann, with utter certainty.

And Pinky just had to believe that.

***

"So for the maiden voyage," said Sabeltann, later that night when they were settled in for bed, darkness pressing in close against the windows.

Pinky hummed, stretching in bed as far as he could, with the chains restricting as much as they did. He was shirtless but still wore his pants, as he sometimes tended to do, even in sleep. "Aye?"

Sabeltann pulled his undershirt over his head, folding it and adding it to the neat pile at the foot end of the bed. "We're going to Lama Rama." He climbed into the bed, crawling across it to sit by Pinky, trailing a finger down the middle of his chest. "I was wondering if you… wanted to join?"

Pinky sat up abruptly. "Join? Really?" He beamed, grasping Sabeltann's hand in his. "Yes, master, yes! Though…" The beam slipped a little. "Why? You haven't let me before…"

"I'm still worried," Sabeltann admitted, squeezing his hand. "But this isn't treasure hunting… this is political. And," he snuck his hands around Pinky, lacing his fingers together behind his back, "I might be bringing you along to," and he pulled, tugging Pinky into his lap, " _show you off_." Sabeltann grinned, their faces inches apart, Pinky's palms pressed flush against his bare chest.

Pinky had been taken by surprise at the move, but now he shifted, melting into Sabeltann, their hips aligning. "Really, now?" he asked, voice low, amused at Sabeltann's predictable reaction. He turned to goo whenever Pinky took charge in bed. Pinky, of course, used this to his advantage, reaching up to wind his fingers into Sabeltann's hair as he ground down against him. "You think I'm worth showing off?"

"Absolutely," Sabeltann breathed, immediately and without hesitation. "You're beautiful."

Pinky stilled, then swallowed, unsure if the burst of warmth by his chest was good or not. He wanted to be beautiful, but - to Sabeltann - he wanted to be so much _more._ "You think?"

Sabeltann nuzzled his throat, pressing gentle teeth to his skin. "Aye - your hair is gold, I've told you before." He pulled back and cupped his cheek. "And your eyes… magnificent."

His eyes - his eyes, which had been bullied and teased as long as he could remember, a seven-year-old John scoffing at five-year-old Pinky toddling along after Langemann. "Really?" Pinky whispered, meeting Sabeltann's own gaze, soft and pale, pale blue.

"Yes," Sabeltann said, brows knitting together in confusion. "Of course. Has no one ever told you?" Pinky shook his head dumbly, and Sabeltann cooed, tilting his head to kiss him gently. "They're great." He placed a light, light, ever so light kiss on Pinky's left brow. "Like the heavens." A kiss, if possible, even lighter, on his right. "And sea..." Pulling back again, he smiled kindly, brushing his thumbs over Pinky's cheekbones. "The line where the ocean meets the sky."

The warmth grew and expanded until it filled Pinky's whole chest - until it felt like he might burst with it - until it was his entire world. He buckled forward, kissing Sabeltann hot and open-mouthed to silence himself and his heart lest he say something stupid, such as _'thank you_ ' or _'you're my world'_ or ' _who was I before you?'._

Sabeltann didn't complain, retuning the kiss in earnest, hands cold on Pinky's back. Cool in a warm way - not like the chill of the air, so unwelcome and distant.

He'd used to think _Sabeltann_ unwelcome and distant. What a fool he'd been.

#  Chapter Eight

The meetings between Raidah and Sabeltann were boorish but necessary. Pinky sat in on them talking about signals and designs and ranks, pointedly keeping himself awake and focused just so he'd know what he was in for. At one point, Sabeltann told her that she'd still rank beneath him, but above Langemann, the quartermaster of his own ship. Though he said, grinning, that Langemann would probably always rank higher than any to the crew of the Lady, no matter how many stood above him.

"Ah, yes," Raidah said, nodding, "he's a kind man." Her gaze flickered to Pinky, softening. "Though not very understanding, I've heard?"

Pinky smiled sadly but said nothing, knowing the meeting was yet to end, and that Sabeltann would not approve if he spoke. And rightfully enough, Sabeltann showed his impatience by tapping his fingers against the table.

Raidah noticed, glancing between them. Her eyes cooled. "Right. I assume he's yours, then, and yours only? That you own him and everything he is?"

Sabeltann raised his chin, meeting her gaze head-on. "All he wishes to give."

 _Everything_ , thought Pinky, clenching his hands to keep from speaking aloud in Sabeltann’s defence, _I give you everything. You have my everything._

***

"Are you gonna be alright?" It was Raveena, worrying the hem of her woollen shirt before the gangway to the Grim Shadow.

Pinky looked at her, confused. "Yeah, of course? Why?" The crew of the Lady was buzzing around them, carrying crates and ropes around. The crew of the Shadow was busy on their own ship.

Raveena shrugged a little, pushing her thick, singular braid behind her shoulder. "It's just - you've been so cold lately. Isn't that why we moved practice sessions?"

"Oh!" said Pinky. "Yeah, that's the chains - metal gets cold in open air, you know?" He fiddled a bit with the thick coat, showing off the long sleeves covering his wrists. "It helped after I got this."

Sighing, Raveena gave him a brief hug. "Just be careful. I don't want you to get hurt."

Before Pinky could answer, Sabeltann appeared on the deck of the Grim Lady. "Pinky!" He said nothing more, and though there was no urgency in his tone, Pinky didn’t want to make him wait – he flashed Raveena a smile before climbing up the gangway.

"Aye, master?" he said, coming to a halt beside Sabeltann.

"Are you ready?"

"Aye, master."

"Good." Sabeltann patted his head briefly, turning to overlook the harbour and crowd there. "You'll follow the usual rules. Do you remember them?"

"Of course, master." As though he’d forget! Pinky wet his lips, listing off: "Your word is law, I'm not to do anything without your permission, and I'm to always be nearby, but never noticed."

Humming, Sabeltann pulled on the chain. "Very good. You'll be staying with me - there's room for two in my cabin."

Pinky was about to comment that if his bed was as big here as in the castle, there was room for the whole crew in his cabin - but Benjamin walked past, reminding him they were not alone, and he bit down on the words.

Sabeltann must've noticed, for he pulled on the chain again, subtler this time. Pinky bent his head, pleased.

***

Pinky had sailed with the Grim Lady before when he was younger - following in Langemann's footsteps, too young to be left alone and not young enough to be left with no work. He knew the kitchens as well as Skalken, if not better, as a consequence. Sealife was, therefore, not _new_ to him.

Sailing in chains and bundled up in clothes, however, _was._ The comforting rock and ease of the ocean were the same, and the laid-back efficiency of the crew bustling back and forth was also familiar. Pinky, though, did not have much to do, chained to Sabeltann's hip as he was. Sabeltann didn't send him off as he'd used to do before. He didn't explain why, though Pinky could guess he was simply more valuable to him now – it was a reasonable guess.

Pinky didn't mind all too much either way - there was something strangely luxurious about sticking to Sabeltann's side, even if he did miss the daily tasks shared between crewmembers.

The Grim Shadow was never far away, ravens sailing between the ships with daily messages. Sometimes the two sisters were so close Pinky could poke his head over the gunwale and wave down - it didn't matter who was on deck; all of them would wave back, though none as cheerfully as Raveena.

The ship was a beauty, gliding through the waves and froth with a grace the Lady never had - which spoke volumes, for the Grim Lady was a charmer herself.

***

"So," said Pinky, the third night as he watched Sabeltann bustle around while getting ready for bed, "why Lama Rama? If I may ask."

"You may," Sabeltann answered, pulling a comb through his hair. "King Rufus is our wealthiest ally and trading partner, if not a very powerful one. He heard the word we were building a new ship and invited us over for her maiden voyage." Sabeltann shrugged, taking off his shirt before moving into the bed. Pinky scooted over to make space for him. "Wanted to be first, I suppose. It's a bit longer journey than I'd want as a maiden voyage, and it's a bit later in fall than is desirable, but..."

"It's worth it?" Pinky tried.

"It's worth it," Sabeltann agreed. "Besides, it's a great learning opportunity for the new crew. And it's Lama Rama." He grinned. "We leave with our pockets full of gold, and their ale is better than any."

Pinky hummed, reaching to brush some hair out of Sabeltann's face. "Do you think he remembers me?"

Sabeltann laughed. "The eleven-year-old boy who took him by storm, blew his town to bits, and saved his kingdom? You're not forgettable, pet."

Pinky shuddered, laying down beside him and tucking the covers up over them both. _I like when you call me that,_ he thought, and then, because he was in the middle of the sea and no one was nearby, he muttered, "I like when you call me that."

Silence, for a long moment, and then Sabeltann rolled over onto his side, drawing Pinky against his chest. "I like when you're honest," he muttered, burying his face in Pinky's hair. "I like that a lot."

 _I like you a lot_ , thought Pinky, but he wasn't brave enough to say that. He hummed, reaching up around Sabeltann's neck to caress the back of his head, tightening his fingers around his curls.

Sabeltann gave a wistful little sigh, relaxing into him, easing into a familiar position. His nose brushed against the shell of Pinky's ear, and just like that, Pinky was horny, a flare of desire flashing through him.

He considered it, for a moment - if initiating something would be a favour for Sabeltann or for him - and then decided that if Sabeltann didn't want it, he'd just stop him.

Mind made up, Pinky rubbed slow, deliberate circles into Sabeltann's head, shifting enough to slip a thigh in between Sabeltann's legs.

Sabeltann caught on quicker than expected. "Oh," he said, amused. "We're in that mood tonight?"

Pinky couldn't help but snort, pressing his forehead against Sabeltann's chest. "Is it a problem, master?" he whispered, tilting his head to carefully - lightly - kiss the skin right by his nipple.

"Ah, oh, no," said Sabeltann, and Pinky shifted, pressing against his crotch. "Not at all," Sabeltann breathed, before pushing aside some of Pinky's hair to properly close his mouth around his ear, biting gently.

Pinky inhaled, shifting to kiss him better, teasing the flushed skin around his nipple as he slowly rocked his hips.

Sabeltann gasped, the sound warm against Pinky's ear.

He needed to kiss him - to swallow his moans and taste him on his tongue - and he needed it _now._ Pinky sat up, shifting, sliding against him - leaning down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. Sabeltann kissed back, arching into him, hands finding Pinky's. He was already hard - Pinky could feel him through his pants, rubbing against the side of his thigh with every move - and it only served to spark Pinky's own desire. "Look at you," he muttered, breaking the kiss to press their foreheads together, breaths mingling as he rocked back and forth, grinding their cocks against each other. "So hard and ready..."

Sabeltann made a broken little whine, his hold on Pinky's hands tightening. "Oil," he muttered, "oil - I think - aloe vera, in the - " He gasped at a particular move from Pinky, and Pinky grinned, kissing him briefly before letting him continue. " _Ah_ \- cabinet - by the table - "

"Oh, something new?" Pinky ground down a last time before untangling their hands and sliding off him. He went over to the cabinet but stumbled at an unexpected wave crashing into the ship.

"You okay?" Sabeltann asked, and when Pinky glanced over, he'd stopped with his pants down by his knees, dick swollen and dark.

"More than," Pinky said, and tore the cabinet open, scanning the shelves inside for any gel-like substances. When he found it, he tugged it out of the rack, then rushed to take off his own pants.

He slid back into bed, one knee on each side of Sabeltann's hips. "How do you want this?" Pinky murmured, slowly easing their dicks against each other, the friction of skin against skin setting his nerve-endings on fire.

Sabeltann's head fell back against the pillows, and he whimpered, hips bucking up to meet Pinky, eyes sliding closed. "Just," he said, then cut off to breathe a bit, "just, just - you know how I - "

Pinky reached down between them to press a nail against one of the more sensitive bumps, and Sabeltann _moaned._

" _Ah_ \- how I like it, oh, Pinky, _please -_ "

There was little better than Sabeltann begging, and Pinky leaned down to kiss him - biting his lip - then moving back, touching a gentle hand to his chest. "Can you sit up for me, master? Just up, here, against the wall - thank you, you're so _good._ "

"I," said Sabeltann, even as he moved to do as Pinky asked, hands pulling aimlessly at his chains, "I, Pinky, I _need -_ "

"Yes, master, aye," Pinky muttered, straddling his lap again, leaning up to kiss him, to kiss his chin, his throat, to nibble at his collarbone. "I know, I know. You have me. I'm here."

"Please," whispered Sabeltann, "please, please - "

"What?" asked Pinky, pulling back to look at him, gauging his response. "What do you need, master?"

"Please," Sabeltann repeated, his eyes half-lidded, pupils so wide there was barely any blue left, "please... touch me..." And with his hand, he gently took Pinky's, placing it on his own cheek.

Pinky melted, just a little bit. "Of course," he muttered, kissing him gently - tenderly - letting his hands roam. Exploring. His own dick was aching, yearning for release, but his master had asked something of him - had _begged -_ and he wanted nothing but to obey.

He kept going like this - kissing soft, light - until Sabeltann was squirming beneath him, breath coming in sharp puffs. Then he went on going a little more until the squirming became rutting, Sabeltann pressing his forehead against Pinky's shoulder, his lips to his skin.

"More?" Pinky asked, quiet, hands on Sabeltann's hips to steady him.

Sabeltann whimpered, nodding against him. "More," he said, "more, more, please, more-"

"You're doing so well," Pinky praised, "so well... let me just - " He reached over to the jar of aloe vera, opening it and pouring some onto his fingers. It was more liquid than the coconut oil he'd gotten used to, and colder as well, but he didn't mind, reaching behind him to start working on readying himself.

"Pinky..." Sabeltann breathed, fingers trembling along Pinky's wrist, inches away from the iron shackle. "...can I?"

Pinky stilled. He stared straight ahead, wide-eyed before he caught up to himself. He shuddered. "Yes," he whispered, "yes, you can, _yes._ "

It was different when Sabeltann did it. _Everything_ was different when Sabeltann did it, but this... oh, _this..._

He went so slow and so gentle, glancing up at Pinky through thick eyelashes, so uncertain and soft. When Pinky readied himself, he did it as fast as he could, to be done as soon as he could, to move onto better things.

Sabeltann did it to _please._ It wasn't long before Pinky was the one squirming, pushing down against his fingers, fucking himself on his hand. "Master," he breathed, "master - _master -_ I'm ready - I'm ready, please, more, can I have more, master, please?"

Slowly - careful, still so careful - Sabeltann pulled his fingers out, carelessly wiping them on the covers as he supported Pinky's hips.

Pinky wasn't even half as slow as him when he guided Sabeltann's cock into himself, whimpering softly at the sensation of being _filled._

A wave rocked the ship, driving Sabeltann deeper into him than he was ready for, and he gave a surprised little yelp. "Are you okay?" Sabeltann blurted, hands fluttering across Pinky's skin -

"Take me," Pinky said.

"What?"

"Oh, my God," said Pinky, and rocked his hips, the _burn_ and _stretch_ sending trembles straight through his bones and into his very marrow, " _take me._ "

This was nothing like what he'd experienced before - better, and different, and so deliciously _rough._ He shifted down harder, wanting more, _needing_ more – and for Sabeltann to move, damnit!

But. _But_.

Was this about Pinky? He blinked, refocusing a bit, shifting to glance at Sabeltann - trying to get a good look at his expression.

He looked like Pinky held all the answers to the universe, mouth hanging open, eyes wide.

And then he _moved._

It felt fantastic. It felt _great_ , the uneven slip-and-slide of being roughed out, Sabeltann rocking into him in time with the ocean, being driven deeper with every wave crashing into the hull of the Lady. And yet something was amiss. Something about Sabeltann's silence - about the way he held himself -

Pinky twitched, burying his hands in Sabeltann's hair, biting down on his neck. " _Master_ ," he moaned, a very pointed sound he'd learned Sabeltann appreciated, "you're doing so good... so good... ah, _master -"_

" _Pinky_ ," Sabeltann whined, unfolding, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, "Pinky, _Pinky -_ "

And Pinky moved, effortlessly switching back into the roles he knew worked - without breaking the excellent _, fantastic_ stretch.

"It's okay, master," he muttered, and pressed open-mouthed kisses down his throat, "it's okay, okay, I - _ah_ \- oh, _master -_ "

The ocean crashed again, just as Pinky pushed down, his teeth sinking into Sabeltann's skin – and Sabeltann moaned. _Loudly._

Pinky forced himself to still, placing his hands flat against Sabeltann's chest. "Shh," he said, not unkindly, "shh, the others are right below us..." He rolled his hips, pressing his mouth to Sabeltann's to swallow his next moan. "Wouldn't want them to wake now, would we?"

"No," Sabeltann whispered against Pinky's lips, "no, I - _oh -_ "

They resumed their moving, keeping the volume down as much as they could. When Pinky came, it was with a soft cry muffled by Sabeltann's throat, his cum spilling all over Sabeltann's stomach. Sabeltann came only moments after, biting down _hard_ on Pinky's shoulder. It hurt, maybe a bit more than it should, but he didn't care - couldn't care. Not when Sabeltann was already swelling inside of him, Pinky's fingers tangled in his own cum, and the smell of their release dense in the air.

Still coming down from the high of his orgasm, Pinky nuzzled Sabeltann's neck. "Thank you, master," he muttered.

Sabeltann didn't answer, prodding Pinky's shoulder uncertainly. "We need to clean that," he said.

"Huh?"

A small, sheepish smile. "I, hm. I went through the skin. You're bleeding a bit." He showed Pinky his fingers; they were bloodied, though only the slightest bit.

Pinky stared at them, contemplating for a moment - then leaned forward, drew them into his mouth, and sucked.

Sabeltann went limp against him, cheeks flushing in more than orgasm-afterglow. "How," he breathed, fingers twitching against Pinky's tongue, "how do you _keep_ finding these things -"

Pinky grinned and pulled back, dragging the tip of his tongue along the pad of Sabeltann's index finger. "Magic," he muttered, amused.

"Gods. Sometimes it really feels like it."

***

"Pinky!"

Pinky squinted against the sun, lifting his head towards the voice. It was Benjamin, hanging out over the edge of the crow's nest, braids dangling in the wind. He grinned down when he saw Pinky looking, opening his mouth to holler, "Can you tear yourself away from our magnificent captain to come up here for a bit?"

He wanted Pinky up in the crow's nest? Whatever for? Benjamin had the keenest eyes, after all.

He had to admit he was curious, though. Pinky glanced up at Sabeltann, waiting for permission.

"Hm." Sabeltann fingered Pinky's chain, eyeing the brig dubiously. "What if you fall?"

" _Master_ ," Pinky sighed, only partially amused. "I've climbed that thing a thousand times before. I can take care of myself."

Another silent moment, then Sabeltann relented, removing the chain from his hip and handing it over. "Alright - but be _careful_."

How odd, Pinky thought, as he started climbing. He'd never minded Pinky climbing the rigs before when he was a babe.

The chains were an expected - and easily averted - obstacle. Thankfully he'd gotten more than used to them by now - adjusting his instinctive footing to make space for them wasn't hard.

Benjamin awaited him in the nest, face bearing a proud, pleased grin. "Didn't think he'd let you up," he said, clapping his shoulder.

Pinky barked a laugh. "He didn't want to," he admitted. "Worried I might fall."

"Aha," said Benjamin, raising his eyebrows, "so it was worry?"

"Aye." Pinky leaned against the edge, glancing out at sea. It was a cloudless day, the skies blue and the waters calm - out in the distance the horizon bent. "Was there any reason you called me up?" He shot a grin at him. "Or was it just to challenge master?"

Benjamin huffed, shaking his head. "I'll never get used to you calling him that," he muttered. He did lean against the railing next to Pinky, though, and smiled. "So you two, huh?"

Pinky blushed. "What… what do you mean?"

Benjamin laughed. "I haven't seen you without hickies in _weeks_. As if that wasn't enough, I was on guard duty last night." He gave Pinky a pointed look, and Pinky ducked his head, blushing harder. Benjamin laughed a happy, booming laugh. "It's okay, Pinky-lad; I don't judge."

Pinky bit into his own discomfort, shaking it by the neck. He raised his head again and sniffed haughtily. "I just do like my master wants."

"Ha! Like he hasn't been showing off his own hickies in return!" Benjamin shoved him good-naturedly. "Whatever you two get up to when no one's looking, you're more into it than you're letting on."

If Pinky got any warmer in the face now, he'd start burning. "If you're just gonna tease -"

"No, no," said Benjamin, sobering. "No, Pinky, I don't mean it like that. I just wanted you to know that, well, I don't really get it, but…" He shrugged. "I don't know. It's weird, but you seem happy, and as long as you're happy… I support you."

Pinky softened. A seagull flew by overhead; it screeched.

_I support you._

No one had said that except Raveena, and, well, Raveena was a bit of a special case. "Thank you," he said, quiet. "I don't know what we have - if it's just, y'know - sex - but… but I'm glad that, whatever it is, someone's behind it." He smiled, fiddling a bit with the chains. "It means a lot."

"I get it," said Benjamin warmly, squeezing Pinky's shoulder. "Of course I support you. You're one of us." He inhaled deeply, then looked down at the deck. The honest moment shattered as he put on a cheerful, mischievous smile. "Well! You better get back to the others before the captain starts worrying more."

"Oh, God forbid," muttered Pinky, "he'll lose his head one of these days."

Benjamin laughed. His laughter echoed in Pinky's ears even as he climbed down the brig.

"Well?" asked Sabeltann once Pinky stood by him again, pressing his chains into his palm.

"I'm alive," said Pinky, with a careless little shrug – and a relieved little smile.

***

It was mid-noon on the sixth day when Benjamin called down, exclaiming 'land o' hoy - Lama Rama ahead!'. None else could see the island just yet, except for an occasional black dot in the distance. Throughout the day, however, the dot grew and twisted into the familiar shape of Lama Rama. By nightfall, they could see the details of the palace - an otherwise dark silhouette against the heavens.

"Well," said Sabeltann, hands clasped behind his back as he squinted in the general direction, "if we have seen them, they have seen us."

Mere moments after he said it, muffled exclamations could be heard all over the ship - when Pinky glanced over at Lama Rama again, he couldn't help the soft "Oh!" that escaped him either.

Above Lama Rama was a vivid array of colour - purples and blues and reds all gathered in one. When most of the flashes died down, new ones shot up - silver and gold, taking the unmistakable shape of the Jolly Roger. The muffled exclamations became clear 'ooh's and 'aah's, even Langemann taking a long pause to stare in surprised wonder at the sparks.

"The cannons," Pinky blurted, tugging at Sabeltann's sleeve, "we can greet them back with the cannons!"

Sabeltann didn't hesitate, turning to face the crew, belting, "Ready upper starboard cannons!"

A series of 'aye, Captain! 's came back at him, and he nodded curtly.

Warmth bloomed hot and ready at the simple gesture of _listening_ , and Pinky shifted closer, just the tiniest bit.

"Ready, captain!" That was Pelle - or Pysa - yelling from the closest cannon.

"Fire!"

They did, eight cannonballs firing off into the ocean at their starboard side. The Grim Shadow, who lay to their port, was close enough to be rocked slightly by the resulting shockwave.

New fireworks appeared in the sky above the palace, this time silver and purple, though still in the pattern of the Jolly Roger. If the last one had been a salutation to the Grim Lady, this one was obviously a salute to the Grim _Shadow -_ and not long after the fireworks died off, her five port cannons went off with a thundering _boom._

Pinky turned his gaze back to Lama Rama, still and quiet due to their distance, and felt his face flush in pleasure. How welcome they must be.

#  Chapter Nine

"The plan, as King Rufus explained in his letter," Sabeltann said to them, approximately an hour before they would be arriving at the beach, "is fairly straightforward."

Langemann, who stood close-by with a pen and paper, jotted this down. Odin watched him uncertainly, a raven perched on his shoulder.

"We leave in three days unless something comes up - a welcoming party will be held the first day, then a celebratory party the second, and a farewell one the third."

King Rufus did like his parties.

"But, er, Captain Sabeltann, what... what _happens_ at each party?" Benjamin piped up. "There isn't any... any speeches or anything?"

"It's King Rufus," said Langemann drily. "At most, he'll try to get you to sing along to a song you've never heard."

Pinky smiled, hiding it in the no-longer-necessary fur of his coat. It was warmer here than back home, and the only reason he wore the coat now was that it was in the early morning hours before the sun had risen. Cold still remained from the darkness of night and would stay until daylight melted it away.

"Everyone will be granted their own rooms unless otherwise is asked for." Here Sabeltann shot a pointed look at Pelle and Pysa, who refused to be split up no matter what. "You will have time to settle down and look around the place before the welcoming party - it starts at sunset."

Appreciative murmurs spread between the members. They'd all like some time to rest before a party - being out on open sea could get tiresome, and there'd been a storm the other night, meaning no sleep for anyone. Pinky himself would be delighted if he could get to nap a bit when they arrived - his eyes were aching from being open for so long - but knew it was up to Sabeltann to decide.

Well. Sabeltann hadn't gotten much sleep the night before the storm, either, which technically was Pinky's fault - but there was no need to linger on the details.

"Has everyone understood the plans?" asked Sabeltann, throwing an I-know-what-you've-done-and-I'm-judging-you look at the whole crew in turn.

"Aye, captain!"

"Good," said Sabeltann with a short nod, before turning to Langemann. "Send the letter."

Langemann nodded as well, handing the short scroll of paper over to Odin, who tied the scrap to the raven's talon before sending it off.

It didn't go far - only the few meters separating the Lady from the Shadow - and Raidah waved up at them as the raven landed on her shoulder, Elberthina rushing in to untie the paper.

***

They were met on the beach by King Rufus and a gathering of his soldiers, all dressed in fine clothes - though none as beautiful as King Rufus. That was all well and dandy, though Pinky wished they wouldn't stare so much. Being familiar with the Grim Lady didn't mean he was familiar with climbing in and out of rowboats, and he couldn't exactly say he was graceful from before.

"Ah!" exclaimed Rufus, doing a little skip-and-a-hop down the beach to greet them. "The magnificent Captain Sabeltann!" He sketched a dramatic bow.

Pinky hurried to wipe the shit-eating grin off his own face before Rufus straightened again. They locked gazes.

 _Here it comes_ , thought Pinky, the chains suddenly heavy. Confusion - worry - or, worst of all, the mixture of horrified disgust he'd seen flash on the faces of a villager or two before they hastily turned away.

He was ready for it – expected it, even – but saw none on Rufus' face. No, his lips twitched in a kind, small smile, and then he looked away, as though nothing had happened.

"It is an _honour_ to have you," he said, clasping his hands together and beaming at Sabeltann. "And I see new people among you..." He stretched his neck, putting a hand to his massive wig to keep it from falling, and then his smile grew impossibly wider. "And the ship... the Grim Shadow, was it? You weren't lying when you called her a beauty!"

"The great Captain Sabeltann never lies," said Sabeltann, and he sounded somehow both incredibly amused and terribly insulted at the same time. Pinky looked up at him with a smile, though it didn't last long before Rufus spoke again.

"No, certainly not," he said. "Ah, we can take the introductions later - I am so terribly sorry, but the beach is horrendously underprepared for a meeting like this." His gaze flickered, then softened. Pinky followed his gaze over his own shoulder, seeing Raveena - with water nearly up to her waist - helping Elberthina out of the rowboat and into her arms. They were both laughing. "How many will be sharing rooms?" asked Rufus, and Pinky blinked, returning to the conversation.

"Pelle and Pysa will," said Sabeltann, nodding at the twins making a stumbling attempt at conversation with Rane and Dortea. "Anyone else has been told to come to you privately. And Pinky," he said, placing a hand on Pinky's shoulder, "will stay with me."

"Naturally," said Rufus warmly. "Alright, then! Come with me." He turned and began walking towards the city; Sabeltann followed, and the crews hurried after. "Is the ship working as she should?" Rufus asked, striking up a conversation that from anyone else would've felt forced, but from him only sounded natural.

"I haven't heard anything else," said Sabeltann, "so I'd assume so, yes."

"Assume so?" asked Rufus. "Whatever do you mean?"

Sabeltann huffed, amused. "Even the great Captain Sabeltann cannot be on two ships at once. Two crews sail beneath me." He hesitated, then called, "All hands in line!"

There was a scurry of motion, then all nineteen of the crewmembers stood in something that _somewhat_ resembled a line, starting with Langemann, then Raidah, from Sabeltann's left.

"Grim Lady, at ease!"

The crew of the Lady stepped back and away, easing back into casual conversation with each other. The seven members of the Grim Shadow remained, tall and proud.

"Ooh," said Rufus, looking them over. "This would be the Grim Shadow, then?"

Sabeltann nodded courtly. "Raidah, her captain," - Raidah saluted - "Rosa, her quartermaster, Raveena, Master Sailer and cook. Rane, Master Gunner. Simon, cooper – his sister, Elberthina, doctor and surgeon – and lastly, Dortea, the gunner." Everyone saluted in turn, except for Raveena and Elberthina - Raveena, who waved before catching herself, and Elberthina, who curtsied.

Rufus moved a few steps to the left, coming closer to the crew. "And do you find joy in this line of work?" he asked them. It was a genuine question.

To Pinky's surprise, it was Elberthina who spoke up. "Absolutely, your Majesty." She ducked her head, pale cheeks flushed a pretty pink. "It was a surprise that Captain Sabeltann wanted me aboard, but - I'm happy I accepted."

"Have any of you done this before?" Rufus continued the questionnaire, a delighted smile on his face. "I don't mean to overstep, but you seem so terribly young for this kind of work!"

"I've sailed before, aye," said Raidah. "Had command of a ship two decades ago or so. I'm pleased to be back in the business."

Rosa was the next to speak up. "Never been directly involved in pirating before, but I've had my fair share of sailing. Same as Rane and Dorotea over there." She jabbed her thumb in their direction.

"I see!" said Rufus. "And you last three, then...?"

"First time, your Majesty." Raveena saluted him again. With the wrong hand. Pinky caught her eye and gestured frantically; she hurriedly switched hands. To no one's surprise, it only caused Rufus to burst into cheerful laughter.

"First time for all of us," added Simon, flashing Raveena a brief, exasperated smile.

"I didn't expect so many first-comers on this new crew of yours, captain," said Rufus, turning back to Sabeltann with a surprised smile. "Though I suppose everyone has their own reasons!"

"Fresh blood," Sabeltann said, with zero hesitation, as though he'd thought this over time and time again. "Passing history and culture on."

"An honourable goal," Rufus said, nodding solemnly. Then he couldn't say anything more, because their rather large company walked through the gates to the city.

People were lined up in the streets, carrying flowers and palm leaves and lanterns - a cheer went up when Rufus walked into their midst, and it only increased when Sabeltann followed right after. They were led through the streets at surprising speeds despite Rufus making small-talk with nearly everyone he saw. Pinky, who kept a keen eye on the people, was surprised to only see variations of the same acceptance as Rufus held when gazes fell on the shackles around his wrists. Some, unlike Rufus, were laced with brief shock, but it never lasted long.

It was a delightful experience. Some of the worry that’d been gnawing at him since the voyage was initially announced finally withered.

Eventually, they made their way to the palace's entrance halls, where a gathering of people shrouded in pale coloured shawls were waiting. "Here, now!" said Rufus, turning a broad smile on them. "My people will show you to your rooms. Any requests can be talked about with them."

A kind-faced man with skin like honey and a creamy, silken shawl stepped up to Sabeltann, curtseying. "Any requests, my Lord?" he asked, his tone gentle and soft.

"Only that Pinky room with me," said Sabeltann, rattling pointedly with Pinky's chain.

The man inclined his head, full lips spreading in a smile. "Naturally, my Lord. Follow me." He walked, every step graceful, as though he'd been born to do this – this dance without music, a strange freedom to every move.

Others of the crew had been approached by similar people - Pelle and Pysa had huddled together, and Rane and Dortea were conversing with their own person - Simon, Elberthina and Raveena all talked to a lady with purple clothes. The rest of the crews had already gone.

***

Their room was large and luxurious - the bedding was fine silks, the pillows around the room decorated with thin gold - details silver and cobber alike.

Sabeltann exhaled slowly once the man left the room. Even his grip on Pinky's chains eased up. "Party at sunset," he sighed, rubbing his own neck with a small grimace. "I don't know about you, pup, but I'm going to bed."

"Praise the heavens," muttered Pinky, and followed Sabeltann readily into the bed. "I thought you'd never ask."

They didn't bother taking off clothes - Sabeltann only removed his coat and shoes, and Pinky kicked off his boots before climbing into bed to join him. He remembered to grab the blanket, pulling it over them both as well as he could – Sabeltann grasping the corner to help before wrapping an arm around Pinky's shoulders, pulling him into his side - Pinky wriggled around until they fit snugly against each other, tucking his head in beneath Sabeltann's chin.

They'd never done that before - never napped together during the day - never held each other just for the sake of _holding_ , except during night or after sex.

There was something strangely _casual_ about it, and Pinky hummed softly, shifting his hand, so the bare skin of his palm was pressed flat against Sabeltann's throat. Sabeltann smiled and moved about until he could press his lips to Pinky's fingers - a gentle, warm kiss.

***

They were woken a few hours later by a knocking on the door. "I think we should get that," Pinky mumbled, lifting his head from Sabeltann's elbow.

Sabeltann groaned, burrowing into the pillow. "You get it," he said.

Pinky was about to jokingly protest, but remembered the chains that bound him, and thought better of it. "Aye, master." He pushed aside the blanket, slipped out of bed, walked _around_ the bed, and opened the door.

The same man from earlier stood there, wearing now a shawl of pastel green. In his hands, he held a plate of fruits and what looked like fish. "Lunch, sir," said the man and smiled kindly.

"Oh!" Pinky took the offered plate, wrestling with it for a moment before he got a good grasp. "Thank you. Say - what time is it?"

"Right before noon," he said and curtsied. "His Majesty King Rufus hopes you're enjoying your stay."

"We are," said Pinky, absentmindedly. He hadn't been close enough to see his eyes before - they were a golden shade of amber and as kind and bright as the rest of him. "Uhm - excuse me, but - what's your name?"

He blinked, taken by surprise. Then he smiled again, folding his hands in front of his stomach. "I'm Hari," he said. "Hari of King Rufus."

"Pleasure to meet you," Pinky nodded. "I'm Pinky."

Hari's eyes crinkled with the next smile. "I know." He stepped back. "Enjoy your lunch." And with that, he walked away.

Pinky nudged the door shut, turning back to the bed, where Sabeltann was watching him, something uncertain in his expression.

"Lunch!" Pinky exclaimed, cautiously placing the tray down on the bed. "Some fruit, it seems, and... fish? Not sure if it's... raw... or what, but, hey, it's food."

"Pinky."

Pinky glanced over. The uncertainty had settled into something... _else,_ but he wasn't sure what. "Yes, master?"

"I was joking earlier. You didn't have to get the door."

"Your word is law," Pinky said, and shrugged. "You've said it more times than I can count, master, and you know it."

Sabeltann didn't answer, gaze falling to the lunch plate. "What kind of fruit is it, anyway?"

"No clue," said Pinky. "But I'm hungry enough to try it."

***

"Do you _ever_ brush your hair?"

Pinky swatted at Sabeltann's hand, playfully scowling up at him. "I never had reason to - ow!"

"If you'd just sit _still,_ this would be way easier on both of us," Sabeltann muttered, tugging at his hair. "Why wouldn't you comb it?"

"It's so _short_ ," Pinky said but did sit still. While getting his hair yanked on wasn't the best experience, Sabeltann's hands in his hair was one of the best things he knew. "There wasn't a point - and the headcloth covered it anyway."

"Hm." Sabeltann fingered some of the loose strands. His hair had grown long enough to nearly cover his ears, brushing against his shoulder at the back. "Do you want to cut it?"

Pinky leaned into the touch, only to yelp in surprise when the comb's teeth snagged on another knot. "Do you want me to cut it?" he retorted.

Sabeltann ceased moving for a moment. When he continued, it was with slow, deliberate motions. "That," he said softly, "is your decision."

"Master," said Pinky, barely holding back an eye roll, "I don't _care._ I couldn't care less. Which is why I ask you - because you clearly do."

"I would certainly not be _bothered_ if you deigned to keep it long," Sabeltann muttered. He was still toying with the strands he'd already brushed. "I do so like your hair..."

"So you've told me," Pinky said, touching a hand to Sabeltann's knee. He smiled softly - warmly - though he knew Sabeltann couldn't see. "So you've told me."

***

The party was _magnificent._ Tables stood all along the main streets, overflowing with pastries and food and fruit. Barrels with ale littered the marketplace, free for anyone to drink, and decorations and music were to be found everywhere. People danced and sung wherever Pinky looked, and though there were tables designated to eat at for both commonfolk and the crews alike, it was apparent most people preferred to eat more, well, all over the place.

When everything had been going on for two hours or so, half the Lady's crew was well and fully drunk. The other half was following right after. It seemed only Langemann was keeping himself on the more sober side, though he, as well, was starting to cast speculative glances towards the dancefloor. Simon, Elberthina and Raveena hadn't been touching most of their drinks, though the rest of the Shadow's crew also were varying degrees of drunk.

Rufus had been drinking steadily the whole time but did not yet show any signs of being affected. Pinky had to admit he was impressed - the rest of them were pirates, and used to drinking heavily, and yet...

Maybe it was just that the ale was different. He couldn't be sure. Pinky himself wasn't too fond of getting drunk - he'd been so only a few times, and the last time he'd fucked _John_ , of all people, so he tended to stop drinking once he got tipsy.

Sabeltann, though he couldn't possibly have the same experience, seemed to agree. He made a great show of drinking often, but he only took small sips. Hadn't they been in public, Pinky probably would've asked - he'd seen him drunk before, though that had been in the confinements of the castle.

"I'm getting more of that steak," said Sabeltann, leaning over to Pinky, speaking lower than necessary. Rufus watched them over the edge of his cup, a small smile on his lips. "You want anything?"

"I can get it," Pinky offered, already pushing away from the table, "and bring with some of the small cakes with whipped cream - those were good."

" _You_ ," said Sabeltann, and rushed to stand before him so he could shove him back into his chair, "stay _here_." He walked away before Pinky could complain, dragging his fingers through Pinky's loose hair as he went.

Pinky watched him for a moment, smiling. "Aye, master," he muttered, more to say it than anything else.

When he turned back, Rufus was still watching. His smile had grown.

Pinky stared for a moment, then sighed. "This is very refreshing, you know, your Majesty."

"Oh, please, call me Rufus!" Rufus exclaimed, putting down his cup. "And what could possibly be refreshing about this? Don't you have parties in Abra?"

"We do, oh, absolutely," Pinky hurried. "But you're all so... accepting. Of - of this." He raised his hands, chains clattering.

Rufus' smile fell a little. "Oh, we're not," he said, "not at all. There haven't been slaves in Lama Rama for centuries - all servants are treated as well as any other person."

Pinky raised his hands again, chains clanking together. "And _yet_ ," he said, jostling them a bit around before settling back down.

"Well," said Rufus, and the smile was back - warmer this time. He leaned across the table, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. "There are three unspoken rules in Lama Rama. One, a duel is never to be interrupted or interfered with unless you have a direct connection to one of the duelers."

Pinky nodded; that was reasonable.

"Two, you don't ask for someone's last name. They'll tell you when the time is right. And lastly..." Rufus shrugged a little, though his gaze remained steadfast on Pinky. "If everyone is willing, you can't judge."

That was... also reasonable. It seemed like something obvious, but - it clearly wasn't, if even _Abra_ couldn't keep up. There was a problem with that, though. "How do you know I'm willing?" Pinky asked. "I'm chained." He was willing, of course he was willing - he was _nothing_ but willing - but he'd never told Rufus that.

"When you two stepped onto my beach, you looked up at him with such utter, complete adoration and dedication." Rufus said it so matter-of-factly - but he tilted his head slightly, the enthusiastic edges of his smile softening into something paternal. "I knew then and there that whatever the reason for you being chained - and chained to _Sabeltann_ , nonetheless - it wasn't against your will."

Pinky stared. "You're the first to say that," he said. "You're the first to do that."

Rufus laughed, reaching across the table to clasp his shoulder. "And I won't be the last, that I promise you! Whatever you two have got going on between you, it's going to rock the world."

Sabeltann chose that moment to return, handing a plate with the cakes Pinky's asked for over. Among them lay fruits he'd taken a liking to, along with smoked salmon.

"Oh!" Pinky exclaimed. "Thank you, master, you know me so well."

And if Rufus' smile turned even warmer at that, then only Pinky saw, and he didn't connect the dots.

***

As the party continued and more and more of the crewmembers trickled out to dance among the locals, a tipsy Pinky found his way into an equally as intoxicated Sabeltann's lap. The tables were eventually moved to make more space for dancing, but Pinky had no plans about leaving, and neither did Sabeltann. So there they sat, in a single chair, watching the party unfold as they spoke in soft tones, giggling quietly among each other. They were in an exotic land - strange foods and drinks, pretty people and customs - and yet, Pinky couldn't look away from Sabeltann.

Pinky didn't _want_ to look away from Sabeltann, his hands pressed against his chest, legs flung over the armrest of the chair, heart beating against heart.

And, to his great wonder, Sabeltann looked _back_. His hand was on Pinky's back, supporting his weight, the other placed on his thigh, thumb rubbing slow circles into his hip.

He was so pretty – so beautiful – ethereal in his own way, with his pale skin and raven-dark hair, eyes such a gorgeous blue – lips able to form the most wondrous smile Pinky had ever seen.

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to kiss him, and Sabeltann seemed to agree, kissing him back without any haste – without a worry. So lazy and warm it was, with Pinky caressing Sabeltann’s cheek and leaning into him, that he nearly forgot about the party around them.

Another first - the first kiss that wasn't meant to lead to something more, and wasn't meant to _be_ something more - just a kiss, slow and earnest and near.

Even so, when Sabeltann pulled back and muttered, "rooms?", tucking some of Pinky's hair away from his face, Pinky couldn't help but nod.

***

Pinky went for the bed when they returned to their rooms, but Sabeltann pulled on his hand, tugging him into the bathroom. "I thought," he said, turning one of the taps to the large, glazed bathtub, "we might want to try the tub while we still can."

" _Excellent_ idea, master," Pinky said, reaching for his hand, pressing it to his lips - drawing his fingers into his mouth, sucking gently.

Sabeltann swore, tripping in his own feet as he hurried closer, ripping his fingers out of Pinky's mouth to instead kiss him. There was haste and desperation in the movie, teeth against teeth and tongues clashing, but Pinky returned it, tugging him close and closer still, sliding hands beneath shirts and fingers against skin.

They stumbled back into the wall, Sabeltann working on the buttons of Pinky's blouse. Pinky tugged at his coat until it fell off in a pile on the floor, followed soon after by Sabeltann's shirt as he pulled away long enough to rip it off.

Stretching, Pinky put his lips to Sabeltann's throat, hands on his chest, close, close, _close._

Finally, Sabeltann had fumbled with the blouse long enough to have it falling off, and Pinky stepped over it, dragging his nails down Sabeltann's side. "What do you want, master?" he asked - it always served to make Sabeltann shiver - and kissed his collarbone.

"Tonight?" Sabeltann said, twining his fingers into Pinky's hair. He pulled him away, stroking his fingers down Pinky's neck as he tilted his head, meeting his gaze steadfast, pupils wide. "Tonight, I want nothing but you in my arms."

"Not in me, tonight, master?" Pinky asked, stilling. There'd only been that one time - that first time before everything began - where they hadn't fucked.

Sabeltann shook his head, kissing him gently. "Just _with_ you tonight."

So many firsts today.

"Alright," whispered Pinky, and kissed him back, standing on his tiptoes, teeth on Sabeltann's lips.

They kissed for a while, all soft lips and warm mouths, exploring hands and tongues. Eventually, when the tub was full enough, Sabeltann turned off the tap, then helped Pinky out of his pants. Together they sunk into the hot water, and Pinky couldn't help the pleased little sigh that escaped him. His dick, only semi-hard, twitched at the sensation. Not that he hadn't bathed in hot water before - but this was different. So, so, different.

Sabeltann moved through the water, taking Pinky's hands and pulling him closer. They lay chest-to-chest, Pinky between Sabeltann's legs, his knees hooked around Pinky's hips.

Pinky couldn't quite help but kiss him, taking his time in mapping out his mouth - then moving to kiss his cheeks, and his ears, over to his temples and his jaw.

Sabeltann hummed, and Pinky smiled against his skin, feeling his cock harden between them. "You're so predictable," he muttered, biting gently.

"Is that bad?" asked Sabeltann. He raised a hand to the back of Pinky's head, tangling wet fingers in dry hair.

"Not at all," said Pinky, and shifted his hips in a familiar motion he knew would rock their dicks together - something that never failed to get a sound out of Sabeltann. "Makes this way easier for me."

"Rascal," Sabeltann said, but the words came out dry and croaked, and his eyes had slid shut. His hips bucked, and he let out a breathy curse as the move rocked them together again – all new sensations in the warm water.

Pinky put his hands on Sabeltann's thighs, rolling his hips in slow, circular motions. "Stay still," he whispered. Sabeltann arched up to meet his next kiss, eager, hands on Pinky's shoulders.

"How still?" he murmured against Pinky's lips, and Pinky laughed.

"As still as you can." He sat back in the water, reaching between them to grasp them both at once. Sabeltann made a surprised sound - which twisted into a surprised _moan_ when Pinky pushed forward, rubbing them together. The water added new levels to this - new feelings, new wonders. His dick ached.

Sabeltann stayed uncharacteristically still even though he was trembling, teeth digging into his lower lip.

"You're doing so good," Pinky whispered, rubbing his thumb over the head of Sabeltann’s dick. "So, so good..." He twisted his hand to gently press along the bumps at the base, and then Sabeltann couldn't hold back anymore, pushing up into his hand with a muffled mewl.

"Pinky," he breathed, hand sliding from Pinky's shoulder to the nape of his neck, curling into the hair there, "Pinky, I - _Pinky._ "

"Yes, master," Pinky cooed, moving his hand in time with Sabeltann's motions - still with his fingers wrapped around his own cock as well, the friction wonderful - _fantastic_ \- "Fuck my hand, master, doesn't that feel good?"

"Yes," Sabeltann gasped, tugging at Pinky's hair, drawing him closer - another hand came to rest on his lower back, and Pinky caught on fast, rocking his own hips in an off-beat echo of Sabeltann's. "Yes, Gods, _Pinky._ "

A particular move from Sabeltann's side caused pleasure to flare up Pinky's spine, and he moaned quietly despite his own wishes, buckling forward - and Sabeltann was there, catching him, kissing him, speeding up.

Pinky tightened his hold on their cocks, and Sabeltann whined into his mouth, hips twitching, muscles trembling. "Yours," Sabeltann whispered, pulling back just enough to press their noses together, and Pinky could _feel_ every word, "yours, yours, I'm yours -"

"Mine?" asked Pinky, and though he didn't cease moving, the confusion sang through him.

" _Yours."_

"Mine," Pinky repeated, awe and wonder in his tone, thumbnail pressing into a bump.

"Yes," gasped Sabeltann, and came.

***

Later they lay in bed; Sabeltann curled up around Pinky, Pinky's head resting on his chest.

Yours. Mine.

Sabeltann had flipped the script. Pinky was _his_ \- his slave, his servant, his - his -

Whatever he was wasn't _important._ Pinky was _his._

But.

Sabeltann didn't lie. Sabeltann had never lied to him before - he would not start during sex -

Mine. Yours.

Yours and mine.

Maybe... and the thought was scary because Pinky could feel it swelling in him, sending waves of heat all throughout his body, but... maybe Sabeltann was just a little bit Pinky's? Not as much as Pinky was his, but - possibly, just sometimes - a little bit of Sabeltann could be Pinky's, as well.

A scary thought, yes – but a nice one. Very, very nice.

Pinky smiled.

#  Chapter Ten

They were woken the next day by more knocking on the door. Would they only be awakened by knocking? Pinky sighed and sat up, ready to go to open the door – but Sabeltann rolled over and put a hand to his chest, pushing him back down into the mattress.

"Stay," he said, soft and quiet, before kissing him briefly and sliding out of bed. He threw on his shirt and a pair of pants, then went to the door.

Pinky pushed up on his elbow, peeking around Sabeltann's torso to look at whoever was on the other side. He recognized Hari's voice, but couldn't properly see him except for a darkened hand every now and then.

"His Majesty King Rufus has kindly requested your presence in the palace gardens, my Lord," said Hari, "though he stresses that there's no haste, and you don't have to come if you do not want to."

Sabeltann turned to look at Pinky, raising his eyebrows. Hari, who first now saw Pinky, blinked in surprise.

When it became apparent Sabeltann was waiting for Pinky to say something, he shrugged. "Do you have anything better to do?"

Sabeltann opened his mouth.

He closed it again.

Something told Pinky that if they had been alone, he would've said something along the lines of 'fucking you senseless,' but alas, Hari was still at the door.

Turning back to the door, Sabeltann said drily, "Tell him we'll come."

Hari curtsied. "Yes, my Lord."

Sabeltann closed the door, then went over to sit on the bed. "Palace gardens, hm? We must be important."

"You're kidding," Pinky deadpanned. "Of course you're important. Bear in mind, he only requested your presence, too – there's no reason for me to come along."

He scoffed, then bent, reaching for Pinky's shirt. "Don't be ridiculous." Said shirt was thrown into Pinky's face. "Of course you're coming along."

"Why?" said Pinky, genuinely curious. He began the meticulous routine of putting on the shirt.

"Well," said Sabeltann, but didn't continue. He frowned. "Well – because you -"

Pinky took some pity on him. "Because I'm your slave?" he tried gently.

"No!" Sabeltann exclaimed. "I mean, yes – but – I –"

Pinky laughed, pushing aside the blankets to crawl across the bed. He planted a kiss on Sabeltann's cheek. "It's okay, master. I get it."

Sighing, Sabeltann briefly touched his forehead to Pinky's shoulder. Then he stood, walking to pick up his coat. "Let's just go."

***

The palace gardens were gorgeous. Rufus was waiting for them at the centre, sitting on a bench by a fountain depicting a young man cradling a baby in one arm and holding the hand of a little child. Hari stood by him, and they appeared to be talking together, heads tilted close.

"Your Majesty," Sabeltann said.

Both Rufus and Hari looked up. "Your Majesty," Rufus returned. When Sabeltann hesitated, he smiled. "Credit be where credit is due, captain! You're the King of the seven seas, are you not?"

"Oh, well, yes –"

"Hari, dear, I do believe the kitchens require your assistance today," Rufus interrupted, turning the smile on Hari.

Hari inclined his head and stepped back. "Yes, dad."

Pinky's jaw dropped. He caught Hari's glance at him and hurried to snap his mouth shut, ducking his head and stepping closer to Sabeltann's side.

They were all silent as Hari walked away.

"I wasn't aware that you were a… father," Sabeltann said, once the silence stretched. He kept his voice respectful. Rufus could probably not hear the confusion and surprise in his tone, but Pinky knew him well.

"Oh, I have many children," said Rufus, smiling at Hari's retreating back. He then patted the bench. "Come, sit with me."

"I had not heard of a Queen," Sabeltann tried. He did sit, though, and Pinky followed.

Rufus laughed. "Lama Rama has not seen a queen since my grandfather's days," he admitted. He turned his face to the skies, smile softening. "No, I have no queen. But I do have a people – and people are mortal, no matter how much I might wish otherwise. If a child loses everything, and no one can take them on, my palace doors are always open."

He adopted orphans. Pinky's heart clenched painfully; he thought of Langemann – gentle, kind Langemann, who was still somehow so greatly flawed. Though Pinky wouldn't have asked for any other to take him in, it often felt like he hadn't been taken in at all.

"How many?" Sabeltann asked.

"Seventy-two and counting," Rufus said. "Lama Rama is not just this city – I have children from all over my country. Some from other countries, as well."

Pinky tapped at Sabeltann's thigh; Sabeltann glanced over, then nodded. "I had heard you were heirless," Pinky said, grateful for the permission. "Why is Hari a servant, and not a prince?"

"He doesn't want to," Rufus said simply. "There are heirs, of course. They sit as a council – I am the last King of Lama Rama. When I pass, the council will rule. They shall appoint a leader in my place."

There was silence for a moment. Pinky pressed subtly into Sabeltann, seeking what little comfort he dared in public. His heart ached. He couldn't quite explain why – there was just the thought – the concept –

"The fountain," said Sabeltann, and Pinky looked up at it – at the kindness of the man's face, the relief on the child's. "It's you. Isn't it?"

"Very much so," said Rufus. There was fondness in his tone. "My own people bullied me into getting it, can you believe?"

Pinky could.

***

The party of the celebration was vastly different from the welcoming one. There was less ale and quieter music, more friendly chatter and children. People still danced, though not as much as yesterday.

Sabeltann and Pinky had barely gotten into the marketplace before Raidah showed up, a group of people chattering excitedly behind her. "Captain," she greeted, doing a quick salute. "This is the constructors' guild - they're asking for an audience with us both in regards to the Shadow."

Sabeltann tensed. He wasn't fond of meetings like these - he found them incredibly dull. Pinky had even caught him dozing off in one or two of them. At the same time, Pinky knew there was little chance he'd refuse, so he sighed, mentally preparing himself for a few tedious hours.

"Audience granted," Sabeltann said. "Though..." He turned to Pinky and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you stay here, Pinky?"

Oh, thank God. Still - "Is that okay, master?"

"Certainly. Make some political allies or – something along those lines. Have fun." He didn't smile, but Pinky saw the smile in his eyes anyway, knowing him well enough to spot it.

Pinky ducked his head. "Aye, master!"

"I'll find you afterwards," said Sabeltann, and patted his head before walking away with Raidah and her new friends.

Tried to walk away.

"Er - master?" Pinky said, hurrying after them. Sabeltann raised his eyebrows. "The, uhm. The chains."

Pinky could've _sworn_ Sabeltann blushed, but it lasted only a few seconds. "Of course," Sabeltann said, unclipping the chains from his belt to hand it over. "Take care."

And then Pinky stood alone, chains in hand, surrounded by the strangeness of Lama Rama.

Hm. Maybe he could find Raveena.

***

It didn't take too long to see her, holding Elberthina's hand in a group of Lama Rama teenagers. Pinky made his way over, happy to see Raveena turn to him when he approached. "Pinky!" she exclaimed, reaching for him with her free hand. He took it, letting himself be dragged into the circle of people. "The captain sent you off on your own?"

"He’s in a meeting, so I’m on a secret mission, aye," said Pinky, and winked at her. "Nay, he let me off the hook - 'go make some allies', he said," - he made quotation marks in the air - "but I know he hates those kinds of meetings, so he thinks I do, too."

Raveena gave him a speculative look. "Do you?"

Pinky grinned. "Absolutely."

Raveena laughed, then turned to the teens. "Anyway, everyone - this is Pinky, my best friend." Pinky gave a sheepish little wave. "He serves under Captain Sabeltann."

The teens greeted him in unsynchronized chaos, and Pinky chuckled a little. "' Serves under Sabeltann'," he repeated. "Haven't heard that one before."

"I think what my dear Raveena meant was 'he serves by Sabeltann's side,'" Elberthina grinned.

"What?" said Pinky. "I do?"

Raveena nudged him with her shoulder. "It sure seems like it. You're the talk of the city, you know? Everyone's asking how you got so lucky."

A girl with glasses huffed in amusement. "Someone's asking how _Sabeltann_ got so lucky," she asked.

The revelation made Pinky's head spin. Suddenly it was all just a bit too much – statues, meetings, strangers and all.

"Oh," he said, "I - I didn't know that - huh..." He took a step back, squeezing Raveena's hand reassuringly. "You know, I think I'll - go make some political allies. Elsewhere. Or something."

Raveena's smile softened. "Alright," she said, "that's okay. I'll see you around, yeah?" She pressed a kiss to his cheek, to which some of his nervousness cracked - though he still only smiled before dropping her hand and leaving.

Maybe he could find _Rufus._ He would, if nothing else, not make strange comments about Pinky being attractive.

***

It was harder finding Rufus than it was finding Raveena. He wasn't where Pinky excepted him to be - at the core of the party - but instead, he sat at the stairs of a somewhat abandoned street, watching a gaggle of children play together.

He looked up when Pinky approached. "Pinky!" he exclaimed. "Is something the matter? Where's the captain?"

"Everything's fine," Pinky assured him, smiling as he sat beside him on the stairs. "Master is in a meeting. He let me off with the suggestion to make some allies, so." He shrugged. "Here I am."

Rufus laughed but didn't comment on it, leaning back against the step behind him. "So he's 'master' even when you're not with him, hm?" he asked instead - and Pinky would've heard it as an accusation if it weren't for the kind smile on his face.

"Of course," said Pinky. "I'm still wearing the chains, aren't I?"

He hummed. "And what if you weren't?"

"What?"

"Would he still be master if you weren't wearing the chains?" Rufus asked. He levelled Pinky with a heavy look that was simultaneously familiar and at the same time not. Had this been Sabeltann – or Raveena – or even _John_ , who Pinky knew better than he wished – he might’ve been able to discern what that look meant. As it was…

"Uhm," said Pinky, "so I can tell you're asking something else, but I can't tell what."

"That's alright," said Rufus. "I'm simply asking - would you care for him if you weren't his - how do I put this..."

"Slave," Pinky deadpanned. "You don't have to dance around it. I'm his slave. Simple as that. And, well... yes? Yes. I'd still care for him."

Rufus gave him another heavy look. Pinky still couldn’t tell what it meant. "Would he care for you?"

Pinky bit his lip, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. "I... I don't know." It wasn't a new realization - the thought had been gnawing at him for a while now - but he'd never put it into words. "But it doesn't matter. I'm fine as we are."

"If you say so, I believe you," said Rufus, and inclined his head.

There was a brief moment where Pinky hoped he’d change his mind and dig further for answers – unsure of his own emotions regarding the topic. Rufus, however, remained true to his word and said nothing more.

They returned to watching the children. There were a good fifteen of them, at least - the youngest a toddler who seemed to have just recently learned to walk, based on how she toddled around - the oldest maybe fourteen.

Pinky glanced over at Rufus' expression, at the soft smile there, and the way his eyes crinkled. "How many of them are yours?" he asked quietly.

"Hm? Oh - Mary!" Rufus called, beaming when the oldest girl turned to look at him. "Bring your siblings over here, will you, dear?"

"Yes, pap!" She ran around and gathered children, picking up the toddler and shooing at a few others. They all made their way over, several holding hands, all of them smiling.

Pinky's jaw dropped. Nine, at _least._

"Say hello to Pinky, everyone!" He took the toddler from Mary's arms, bouncing her on his knee. She giggled up at him, reaching for his nose with grabby hands.

Most of the children were younger than ten, but they beamed, a chorus of 'hello Pinky!' falling from their mouths.

"These are my youngest," said Rufus to Pinky, smiling. "Mary is the oldest at thirteen. Hari is next in line at nineteen."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mary," said Pinky, and sketched a pathetic little bow in her direction.

She giggled and bowed in return, hands folded politely behind her back. Then she turned to Rufus, excitedly chattering on about some lesson or another she'd had that day.

Pinky watched, a dull sort of muted pain, while the younger children started playing around Rufus - a young boy clinging to his arm while a little girl carefully evaded his wig.

He was so gentle. So calm. So content.

It was incredibly unfair of Pinky to want it for himself, but he couldn't quite help but wish he was part of those children - or at least that he'd _been_ part of them, when he was younger and needed it the most – before he got used to John’s jabs and started wondering about his _real_ dad.

And despite the pain, and the sharp differences between Rufus and Langemann, Pinky couldn't make himself leave.

"We should be getting back to the party," Rufus eventually said, sounding a bit regretful. "Apologies, little ones, but daddy has business to attend to!"

The children made various sounds of disappointment, but all clambered off him and over to Mary.

"Again, Mary, thank you so much," Rufus said, standing and putting a hand to her shoulder. Pinky hurried to rise as well. "Hari is busy at the palace - and I know you'd rather be with Jeri..."

Mary smiled warmly. "It's okay, pap. I get it." The smile turned mischievous. "But next time, hire a sitter, okay?"

"Of course, dear," said Rufus, and dropped a kiss on her head. "Will you come with me, Pinky?"

"Naturally," Pinky blurted. "Not done making allies yet."

Laughing, Rufus patted his shoulder. His hand lingered in an echo of how he’d touched Mary. "You're never done making allies, Pinky. Trust me."

It was back at the party that Pinky saw him, walking freely among the guests - and Pinky tensed, going into full lockdown mode as the memories of his last visit here flooded him. He didn't realize he'd stepped closer to Rufus before he put a comforting hand on Pinky's shoulder again. "What's the matter, Pinky, lad?"

"Him," said Pinky, and didn't point, "why is he here?"

"Ah." Rufus squeezed his shoulder. "Yes, my dear brother Badal."

"Didn't you put him in _jail_?" Pinky hissed, watching as Badal brought a cup of ale to his lips.

Rufus somehow had the gals to _laugh_. "Oh, yes, yes. And he still is. But we let him out whenever there's a party - it gets so dreadfully dull in there over longer times, you see." He caught Pinky's incredulous expression and sobered, somewhat. "He is under heavy guard. I doubt he knows himself, but there are people set to watch over him everywhere he looks and goes."

"Better than having him roam free, I guess," Pinky muttered.

"I understand your concern," said Rufus, "but he's been behaving very well recently."

"How recently?"

"Oh, a few weeks."

Before Pinky had the time to admit just how utterly, incredibly ridiculous he found that - not that he'd ever say it like that to a _King_ \- Sabeltann appeared at his side, dishevelled and slightly panicked but otherwise seemingly fine. "Master," Pinky said, relieved at the distraction. On the other side of the crowd, Badal disappeared between two people and was gone. "You're good?"

"Hm? Yes - yes, I escaped - I mean - " Sabeltann grimaced, putting a hand to his face. "Yes. I'm good." He held out his hand, palm up, and Pinky instantly handed over his chain. "Thank you."

"Meeting was boorish, then?" Rufus asked, grinning.

Sabeltann gave Pinky an exasperated look, but he didn't tug on the chains, so Pinky figured he was fine. "Of course you told him."

"He's a _King_ ," Pinky argued, though he smiled widely, beaming at them both.

Sabeltann rolled his eyes fondly, then turned to Rufus. "He's behaved?"

"Has he ever not?" Rufus returned. It sounded teasing enough, but he could also just be curious, knowing him.

Sabeltann opened his mouth. Closed it again. He frowned. "Just... a bit, in the beginning," he allowed, slowly - uncertain.

"Oh, don't fret," said Rufus and clapped a reassuring hand on Sabeltann's shoulder. Sabeltann stared at it in shock. "All relationships have rough spots," Rufus continued, kind encouragement in his voice. Sabeltann turned the shock from Rufus’ hand to Rufus’ face.

Pinky wanted to open his mouth and speak - _'we're not, he's not, I'm not_ ' - mostly for Sabeltann's own comfort, but before he could, Sabeltann's shock morphed into a softer kind of uncertainty. "I guess they do," he said, and that was the end of it.

***

The party had been mentioned to last nearly the whole day, though Rufus had reassured everyone on multiple occasions they could leave whenever they wished. Most people didn't start going before mid-way past noon, and there wasn't much fuzz about it, either. The crowd was still significant, but now it had lessened. There were nearly no children left, though, so Pinky assumed the families had gone home.

Sabeltann retreated to the familiarity of the crews, sitting with his closest men by the open floor of the marketplace. Pinky sat beside him in the same chair, pressed close against his side - nearly in his lap. Not everyone was there - the two sets of twins were missing - but enough for Pinky to almost feel like he was back home in Abra, with how loud they were and how cheerful their tones.

The cheer wasn't to last long, though.

Pinky saw him only because he was watching the crowd, not really interested in the current conversation - and there he was, elbowing his way through the masses.

Prince Badal.

Pinky nudged Sabeltann. "Master," he muttered, "look." He tilted his head in Badal's direction, and Sabeltann - who'd been in the middle of a sentence - shut his mouth and looked.

"By the gods," he said, "isn't he in jail?"

"Rufus lets him go free during parties - it's boring in jail, apparently." A spark of worry seized Pinky when Sabeltann's hand went for the hilt of his cutlass, and he hurried to add, "But there are guards on him at all times, Rufus assured me!"

The whole table had hushed now, watching Badal wearily as he approached. Both Langemann and Benjamin had their hands on their blades, and the Shadow's crew looked about ready to murder, despite not having any personal experience with Badal.

"Captain Sabeltann," Badal said, plastering on the fakest smile Pinky had ever had the displeasure of seeing, "our - esteemed guest. What a pleasure to see you again."

"The feeling is one-sided," Sabeltann said. He was tense - Pinky could feel it through his clothes. "What do you want?"

"Ah." Badal inclined his head, tapping his fingers together before his chest. "We got off on a... bad foot, last time you were here, but! I am not one to hold a grudge, so - I simply wish to settle the scores between us." Sabeltann raised an eyebrow. Badal's smile hardened. "I am challenging you to an official duel."

A _duel_? What was he, mad? Didn't he know who he was speaking to?

Sabeltann scoffed. "I have better things to do than shake sticks at an impatient child like you."

"Well, if you're afraid, I surely shan't force you," Badal said, bowing a bit before stepping back.

There was a long pause. Sabeltann shot up and tore off his coat. "Pinky," he said, dropping said coat in Pinky's lap, "hold. I'll show this little pipsqueak just who he's challenging."

Pinky sighed. "Yes, master." He really did have to go and be so riled up about nothing? It was _one_ remark. Pinky could've lasted longer! Even _Benjamin_ , with his short temper and sore ego could've lasted longer, for Christ's sake.

"So what's this about an 'official duel,' hm?" said Sabeltann, stepping over the chair to glare at Badal. People among the crew were starting to rise, and Pinky stood with them, following as Badal led Sabeltann out onto the open marketplace. "What are the pathetic little rules you go by?"

"Oh," said Badal, his smile becoming a grin as he was handed a sword by a villager, "just one."

Pinky's eyes widened. He shoved Sabeltann's coat into Benjamin's arms and hurried closer, though still keeping his distance.

He remembered the rule.

The crowd - who also seemed overly interested in this - split to make way for Rufus. "Badal!" he exclaimed. "What are you -"

"A simple duel, brother, dear!" Badal returned. Sabeltann drew his own blade. "Why don't you oversee it? You're always so _just_ and _fair_."

He spat the words like insults. Either Rufus didn't hear, or he didn't mind, for he only sighed and stepped forward, hands folded before his chest. He looked at the two of them – Badal and Sabeltann – like one would look at misbehaving schoolchildren, but he didn’t comment. "Very well. We all know the rules, don't we?"

"I would _like_ to be enlightened," Sabeltann grumbled.

"Of course," Rufus said, "naturally. None are to interrupt unless they are directly involved. The duel is won when one could easily end the life of the other - though life is not to be taken - and is not officially concluded before I have it announced."

That seemed fair enough. Pinky relaxed, just a little.

"And," Rufus added, louder now, "as King, I implement this temporary rule: no harm is to befall either! If a blade intentionally draws blood, the duel is lost."

Uncertainty flickered on Badal's face, but he reeled it in, offering a far too sweet smile at Rufus. "Of course, your Majesty."

"Naturally," said Sabeltann.

Pinky had been in several duels before, though most of them with Raveena - they worked with their own rules, even if they'd never stated them aloud - and they always, always bowed first.

Bowing was apparently _below_ Badal, as he did no such thing and simply charged when the rules had been set.

Watching Sabeltann fight was like watching a dance. Pinky had seen him battle others before, but never like this - never in a situation where Pinky could just sit and watch without worrying about his own health. Sabeltann twirled and spun, his footwork seemingly instinctual - one shoe before the other, two steps back, block, parry - attack, defend, duck.

Badal knew what he was doing, but there was a tenseness to it - skills born by practice, most likely, and from someone over-confident in their own abilities due to beating someone twice. Pinky had seen it happen before, with lesser pirates - they'd had two or three sessions of practice and thought they could take on the world.

Sabeltann had learned through necessity. His moves were those of someone with enough experience to know the opponent's next step before they knew themselves.

Pinky wasn't sure where he sat on the skill-scale. He wasn't confident in his own fighting abilities - his sparring sessions with Raveena were mostly for fun, though he hoped he'd get better one day – so he wasn't overconfident (he hoped). At the same time, he'd only ever had a handful of sparring partners - though, in his younger years, he'd sparred with anyone available, once winning over Oliver (though, to be fair, all Oliver had was a spoon).

He wasn't as good as Badal. There was no way. At the same time, Pinky might be more _fluid_ than him. Badal worked out of a book, a small vocabulary of steps and moves, and it didn’t work in his favour.

The fight didn’t last long. Sabeltann nearly won twice, but Badal moved aside too fast, and then they were going at it again. Still - not more than a minute or two could've passed before Sabeltall had knocked Badal over, his cutlass resting lazily on his chest.

"Yield," Sabeltann said simply.

"Captain Sabeltann wins!" Rufus called, sounding relieved.

There hadn't been a doubt in Pinky's mind, and yet he was relieved, as well. Badal was blazing fire and hell with his glare, but Sabeltann made no move of recognizing it. He drew back, sheathed his cutlass, and turned, walking away.

Badal, though, had other plans. He was on his feet in an instant, blade drawn.

"Captain," Langemann warned, but - Badal kicked a rock lying nearby, and it flew in between Sabeltann's feet, knocking him off balance. He didn't _fall_ , exactly, but he had to crouch, palm flat against the ground.

Pinky inhaled.

Time slowed, his thoughts sped up, and he saw everything with crystal clarity.

Sabeltann would not get up in time - his cutlass was still sheathed - Badal was stalking over - and no one was close enough to do anything, much less _allowed_ to do anything, what with the rules about interrupting.

And yes - yes, they weren't supposed to hurt each other, but Pinky wouldn't trust Badal to hold a _cup_ right even if he had detailed instructions -

No one close enough, no one to do anything, and Badal not to be trusted.

It wasn't even a question.

Pinky ran - drew his wooden sword, pathetic as it was, since it was still better than being sliced in two - slid in before Sabeltann - _blocked._

Pinky exhaled.

Badal stared at him from across their crossed swords, his metal, Pinky's wood. "What are you _doing -_ "

"How dare you," Pinky whispered, and _now_ the anger settled in, coursing fierce and hot through his veins. "How dare you - he turned his back, the duel was _over._ "

Badal _snarled_. "Rufus hasn't ended it -"

"Pinky!" That was Raveena, calling from somewhere to the left. Not that it was good for anything - it wasn't like she could interrupt -

Langemann's cutlass slid onto the stone before him.

Oh.

Pinky ducked for it, pushing at Badal's hands with the wooden sword to keep him from moving as he closed his hand around the cold metal.

"Pinky - " Sabeltann tried, but Pinky was already standing, having successfully diverted Badal's attention.

"You're breaking the rules!" Badal exclaimed, gaze flickering to Rufus. "Only those involved may interrupt!"

Pinky had to speak his piece and speak it _fast_ , judging by how the crowd started muttering. Sabeltann was climbing to his feet behind Badal, but didn't do anything, hovering uncertainly.

"Involved?" Pinky repeated, angling the cutlass against the next blow - he'd lose this duel, he knew, but at least it would be _him_ losing rather than Sabeltann - "I'm the only one involved!"

Badal scowled and side-stepped Pinky's flimsy attack. The cutlass was heavier than the ones he was used to - it had been tailored to Langemann, to fit his hand, and Pinky's were tiny in comparison.

"I am _his_ ," Pinky continued, realizing it might not be enough to simply _say_ he was involved, "every inch of me - every fibre of my being - every breath is for him, every - !" He gritted his teeth, using his chains to his advantage, whipping Badal as he jumped around him. "Every heartbeat is an echo of his own! I was _born_ to be his!" He twisted the cutlass, pressing the flat side into the back of Badal's knee - then hurried to circle him in a move that had taken Raveena down more times than he could count - pulled on the sword -

And brought Badal to his knees.

"I," said Pinky, and pointed the cutlass at Badal's chest, "am nothing but involved."

He won. He won. He won.

He couldn't believe it - he'd won - he went over the rules again, rushing, thinking hard - no - no, he'd won - he'd _won._

 _"_ Pinky wins!" Rufus called, and there was the same astonishment in his voice as was currently curling in Pinky's stomach.

Badal snarled and lunged, swinging his sword - it bit deep into Pinky's skin, and he yelped, stumbling back as he dropped Langemann's cutlass.

Silence, for half a moment, and then the crowd became an uproar of voices meshing together. "Enough!" Rufus yelled over the choos. "Badal, you lose for the third time! Have you gone mad?"

Pinky didn't catch the rest, preoccupied with staring at his arm - at the blood trickling out between his fingers as he sunk to his knees and squeezed, closing his eyes against the red-hot pain.

Then Sabeltann was there, hands on his shoulders, drawing him close. "Pinky," he whispered, "Pinky, are you with me?"

Pinky leaned into him. "Master - I'm here - are you okay?"

"You reckless moron," Sabeltann muttered, pushing at him, drawing back - he cradled Pinky's face in his hands, brushing his hair aside. "Did you know you could take him?"

"No," Pinky whispered, "I didn't think I could win."

"You - oh, you little - " Sabeltann made a frustrated, half-choked sound. And then he kissed him, open-mouthed and warm, though brief. Pinky barely had time to respond before he pulled back again, eyes wide. "Audience," he blurted, "we have an audience, I completely forgot - "

"Sorry," Pinky blurted – as if he could’ve done anything to stop it. Still, there was something to Sabeltann’s expression that wasn’t – quite regret. Pinky couldn’t help but ask, “Do you regret it?” Changing his grip on his own arm, he leaned closer. He needed Sabeltann to say no - to kiss him again - to distract him from the pain and the hot blood and the adrenaline fading.

Sabeltann huffed. "Not at all," he said, and did exactly that.

Pinky shifted to accommodate him, but it tugged oddly at his skin, and he hissed at the pain flaring up his arm.

Sabeltann pulled back, fingers running light down his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about the shirt," Pinky muttered, first now realizing what a wound meant.

"Are you mad?" Sabeltann looked up at Rufus, who'd approached while Pinky wasn't focusing. "He's hurt."

"Yes, yes - I do see," Rufus said. He sounded far calmer than Sabeltann, though there was an air of franticness about him as well. His hands on Pinky's shoulders, though, were steady and unyielding. "Come, now, dear - let's get you to the infirmary."

Pinky didn't complain, appreciating Rufus' calm certainty. Sabeltann's worry was flattering, but really, it wasn't a very _deep_ wound. By the time Rufus had led Pinky to the infirmary, though, it seemed that the worry had disappeared - or rather, knowing Sabeltann, it had settled in right beneath the skin, where it would fester and grow until he dealt with it.

Right then, though, he was all the glory and strength of a pirate captain.

"Pinky," Rufus said, once Pinky had been sat down on a bed, and two nurses were tending to his arm, "do you mind if I borrow Captain Sabeltann for a moment?"

Sabeltann seemed incredulous, and that was the main reason Pinky allowed it.

"I'll live, right?" he asked the nurse closest to him.

Their nose wrinkled in a charming way when they laughed. "Yes, luv, you'll live. But you'll have to be careful for a while - and you should probably rest, now, while you can."

It sounded reasonable, and Pinky had never been good at arguing against rational people, so he let them push him down onto the bed. And though he'd gotten sleep that night, the emotional rollercoaster of the day added to the post-adrenaline fatigue made rest far too easy to slip into.

#  Chapter Eleven

When he woke, Sabeltann was there.

"Hello, idiot," said Sabeltann.

Pinky smiled. "Hi."

"What were you thinking?" Sabeltann reached for his hand, fingers squeezing tight. "You said you weren't even expecting to _win_?"

Pinky's smile fell. "I just," he said, "I - didn't trust him to follow the rules - and your cutlass was sheathed and you were on the _ground_ and I just - just - " He sighed. "I just don't want to lose you..."

Sabeltann blinked, then groaned. "I can't be mad at you when you're right!"

"So you're not mad?" Pinky asked, hopeful relief welling in him.

"No, Pinky." Sabeltann touched his other hand to the back of Pinky's. "I'm not mad. You saved my life.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I could be mad at you even if I wanted to." A moment's pause; Pinky didn't bother fighting the smile. "We're staying a few more days for your arm to heal a bit. It's too much to set sail right now."

"Oh," said Pinky intelligently. "Okay, yeah. That's fair."

A new voice broke into the conversation, and Pinky turned to look, happy to see Rufus crossing the floor. "Pinky! How excellent to see you awake - I did want to talk to you." He smiled, then sat in the chair on the other side of Pinky's bed.

"By all means," said Pinky.

"What you did out there was very brave," Rufus said, in uncharacteristic solemnity. "I'm sure your parents must be very proud of you."

Pinky grimaced. "Er, well..."

Rufus paled, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Oh, no, I'm terribly sorry - I wasn't aware - I should have realized - you're an orphan?"

"Somewhat," Pinky allowed. "My parents are dead - I was... raised... by Langemann."

Rufus slowly lowered his hand. "You hesitate?"

"He was _supposed_ to be raised by Langemann," Sabeltann deadpanned. "Langemann did not do a good job."

"Oh. Oh, I see." Rufus looked incredibly thoughtful for a long moment. "I see." His expression cleared, just the slightest bit. “For what it’s worth, Pinky – _I’m_ proud of you.”

***

Raveena was the next to visit him - and the last who could since he was released the same day. She hugged him tightly, though mindful of his arm - when she pulled back, she beamed at him, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. "I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed. "You did great, I _knew_ you had it in you!"

Pinky smiled a little, though he was slightly confused. "He must've been too surprised, I think - I'm not good... am I?"

She laughed, then bopped his nose. "Oh, you're better than you think, Pinky!"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to believe that. He'd brought unfamiliar items into the fight and used them to his advantage - his chains - and the tight bandages around his arm proved Badal competent enough.

Though – there was something very comforting about the way Raveena assured him. Maybe there was something to her words, even if she wasn’t entirely right.

***

"So," said Sabeltann, hands folded behind his back. Pinky sat on their bed, shirtless - he was working on sowing the cut from Badal's sword. "You held up in a fight."

Pinky glanced up. "I did," he agreed, frowning.

"But if it hadn't been for your girl - Raveena? - Raveena - you would have fought with a..." He gestured a bit vaguely. "A wooden sword?"

Pinky's cheeks heated instantly. "It's all I have," he said. He realized too late, his tone had been harsh, and he added a quick, "master."

"Exactly," said Sabeltann. He sunk into the bed beside him, plucking the blouse and needle out of his fingers before taking his hand, toying absently with his fingers. "How do you feel about getting your own?"

Pinky blinked. Then stared. "Are you serious?"

"Nothing but. I doubt any of mine would work - I've seen you with the wooden sword, it fits you well - we'd have to commission one, maybe from one of the smiths in Abra - do you prefer any? We can do that, we can even do somewhere else if - "

Pinky put his good hand on Sabeltann's thigh, leaned up, and kissed him. It was brief, though drawn-out – more to quiet him than anything else. "That sounds wonderful, master," he said gently. "But – this is a royal family, yes? Maybe they have a sword of some kind that already fits? Then we don't have to - I don't know, spend unnecessary money?"

Sabeltann gave him a flat look.

Right. Captain Sabeltann. King of the Seven Seas.

"Okay, you don't have to say it," Pinky said, smiling sheepishly. "Still, my point stands – on a scale from one to ten, how frantic was Rufus about one of his guests being hurt?"

Sabeltann chuckled, drawing Pinky closer to drop a kiss to his head. "You know him well, pet. You think it would please him?"

"If he saw it as an apology gift? Absolutely." Pinky grinned, reaching for Sabeltann's hand.

"Excellent point. I find I agree." Sabeltann brought their joined hands to his mouth, kissing Pinky's knuckles. "And if you find it doesn't work... we can always get a new one."

"Precisely," said Pinky. "But, er - can I continue sowing now?"

Sabeltann let go of his hand and shuffled away. "Of course." He handed the shirt back over but seemed to hesitate before Pinky took it. "Are you sure I shouldn't do it?"

"I'm wounded, not dead." Pinky took the needle as well. "Besides, your stitches are atrocious."

He barked a laugh. "You little weasel, how dare you?"

Pinky made some vague sounds, smiling broadly down at his lap as he got to work.

Sabeltann stood, walking through the room and picking up various clothes and pillows that had been spread throughout the room during their stay. He stopped over by the large windows looking out over the sea, holding a pillow to his chest. "Pinky?"

Pinky didn't look up. "Aye, master?"

"Some of the things you said," said Sabeltann, and there was something off about his tone, as though it couldn't figure out what emotion to settle on, "during the duel..."

Pinky stilled. He'd hoped he wasn't going to comment on it. "Aye, master?" He did not resume sowing.

Silence, for a moment. When Sabeltann spoke, the words were croaked. "Did you mean it?"

"...what part?"

More silence.

"Everything."

Pinky swallowed. ' _I was born to be his'_ echoed in his ears. ' _every heartbeat is an echo of his own,'_ followed, joined by ' _I am his I am his I am his.'_

"Yes," Pinky said, and his voice didn't tremble. "Yes, master, I meant everything."

Sabeltann turned to face him, and his expression was open and raw and on the verge of being _lost._ "Every word?"

"Every word."

He hovered, gaze locked on Pinky's face as though looking for answers to questions he'd never asked - "You," he breathed, "are a _marvel."_ He crossed the rooms in three quick steps, falling down and into Pinky, pressing their mouths together in a hungry, needy move.

Pinky answered without hesitation, pushing back up against him, hand on his neck, warm against his cold. Sabeltann pushed him over into the bed, climbing in after him.

A sudden burst of pain had Pinky hissing in surprise. "Arm," he said.

Sabeltann was off him in an instant. "Pesky wound," he muttered, though he did look genuinely regretful.

Pinky laughed, though quietly, gingerly patting the bandages. "It'll heal with time."

"It _better._ "

Some of the hunger Pinky saw on Sabeltann’s expression curled deep in his gut, and he found he agreed. It absolutely better heal – and _soon._

***

Sabeltann must have told Rufus about Pinky's wish for a cutlass, for it took only a day before Rufus drew them both aside and offered to show Pinky the treasure chambers. “We have a chamber dedicated purely to weapons,” Rufus said, “there is a possibility you might find a cutlass fit for you there. Would you like to see?”

"I'd love to," said Pinky, and he meant it. He'd always wanted a proper cutlass, even when he was just twelve and ran around with the desperate hope of joining Sabeltann's crew.

When they entered the first chamber, though, Rufus put a hand to Sabeltann's chest. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid you can't join." He put on an apologetic expression. It seemed real enough. "If he is to carry a Lama Rama blade, he must follow the Lama Rama customs – the choosing of a weapon is highly personal."

It looked like Sabeltann might argue, but he deflated after a moment. Resignation was writ across his face, but he inclined his head, handed Pinky his chains, and stepped back. "Very well. Will it take long?"

Rufus smiled sweetly but didn't answer.

Sabeltann sighed. "Will I have to wait here?"

"I'll find you," Pinky assured him. "I'll always find you."

They went into the chambers without further fuss. Rufus let Pinky set the pace through the first rooms, giving him all the time he wanted to awe and gasp at the heaps of gold and jewelry. It rivalled with – nay, _won_ over – even Sabeltann's hoard. He kept most of his treasures hidden away beneath the castle, rather than in the upstairs treasure chamber. Pinky had seen the whole treasure a few times, though, and while it could compete with Rufus’, it was far from winning.

"It is not as practiced now as before," Rufus said, tearing Pinky away from his inspection of a large oil-painting, "but the process of choosing a weapon – and choosing _what_ weapon – is very dear to many hearts in Lama Rama." He smiled kindly and gestured for Pinky to follow. "Come now. The next room should have what you're looking for."

Pinky hastened after him, in-between piles of books and treasures. "Is there a reason why?" he asked, genuinely curious. It had seemed so obvious, since he was very young, to use a cutlass rather than anything else. Langemann wielded one and wielded it well – as did the crewmembers of the Grim Lady. Most of them had generic ones, though. The kind you would find right about anywhere. Only Sabeltann and Langemann had personalized ones.

"We do not harm," said Rufus. They entered the next room – it was piled full of knives and swords, guns, bows and arrows – spears, axes, hammers – whips and shields - weapons of all kinds and shapes. "We only protect what's ours." Rufus walked over to the wall dedicated to blades. Machetes, sabres, knives, cutlasses – it had it all. "Your weapon should be an extension of yourself and your heart. It's a way to let your heart speak without words – and what language you choose to let your heart speak with when it sings of your loved ones is important."

A shiver ran down Pinky's spine. "I see," he said.

He didn't. But it sounded nice, even if it was just a custom.

"Are you certain your weapon is a cutlass?"

"I'm certain."

"Very well." Rufus pulled a blade from the wall. "I only have three that might fit you, but it does at least give you a choice. Here, this first." He handed it over.

It was an overly simple cutlass. The whole thing seemed to be made from the same metal, blade, hilt, protection and all, and blade flowed to protection flowed to hilt. "Very smooth," Pinky said, not quite able to hide his distaste. It was an elegant blade, certainly, but – well. Pinky had never been very elegant.

Rufus chuckled. "Yes, I thought so – doesn't sing quite right, now, does it?"

Of course Rufus would understand. Pinky should've seen it coming. "It's very nice," he said, "but – not my sort of nice."

"Mhm. Precisely." Rufus took the blade back, remounting it to the wall. "Never fear. There are more choices. Hm, yes - this one here. It's practically the opposite."

Pinky fought the urge to shield his eyes when Rufus brought another one forth. It was an intricate, complex design - set with jewels and silver - the blade twisting into the hilt, which branched off in several different directions. "Gee," said Pinky, taking it gingerly, "how do I even hold this?"

Rufus laughed. "You know, we never quite figured that out. Here, you should see the sheath." He pulled said sheath down as well; it was even worse, detailed with gold and rubies in enough places to blind. "This was my grandfather's - an extravagant man who showed off more than any. His first personal cutlass - this one - is proof enough of that."

Pinky carefully guided the blade into the sheath, marvelling briefly at how neatly it fit despite all the jagged edges. "Fit for a king," he muttered absently.

"And not for a pirate," Rufus said, taking the sheath from him.

Pinky startled. "Oh, I'm not - "

"You _are_ ," Rufus said, smiling kindly. "More than any here."

Pinky was told as recently as yesterday by some of Raveena's new friends that several of the locals had pasts as various types of sailors, but he didn't feel like arguing, so he shut up. "And not fit for a pirate," he agreed instead, watching pensively as Rufus moved the cutlass out of the way.

The simple cutlass wasn't _grand_ , but it was by far better than the detailed one... hopefully, the last one would be a better choice.

"Here," said Rufus, a touch of fondness to his tone. "The last one."

The last one was sheathed from before. Rufus handled it with a different sort of care, and Pinky took it graciously. It was off to a good start - a dark, neutral leather sheath with tips and edges clad in some pale metal. The cutlass itself, when he unsheathed it, was of the same metal - the hilt detailed with polished, dark wood and enhanced with a leather grip. A ruby sat right between the handle and the blade on one side, and on the other was an intricate emblem etched into the leather.

The whole cutlass was well-balanced with an elegant bend - not extravagant, like the second, and not as simple as the first - a perfect in-between.

"Oh," said Pinky. He took a step back from Rufus to make a few hesitant sweeps with the blade. It fit his hand well.

"Steel, mahogany, and ruby," Rufus said. His voice was warm - when Pinky glanced up in surprise, there was a fond softness to his expression. "How does it feel?"

"Like it was made for me," Pinky admitted, and shifted hands, as he opted to do with Raveena sometimes.

Rufus nodded, handing over the sheath. "It's yours if you want it - though, I do feel like I owe you an explanation of it, first. This used to be mine - commissioned for and by me when I was about your age, I imagine."

The sword suddenly grew heavier in Pinky's hands.

"The emblem," Rufus continued, "the symbol, see, on the other side?"

Pinky turned the sword over, glancing at the emblem – a round flower with golden seeds.

"It's the royal house of Lama Rama," Rufus explained, "and bearing the symbol means you're under the protection of it." He smiled a little, small and... hopeful? "It practically means you're adopted into the royal line."

Adopted. Adopted, by Rufus, into Rufus’ family, with the other children – those he’d gazed at so longingly.

"Oh?" said Pinky, voice a bit too high-pitched for his tastes.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No! Not at all." He might've said it a bit too fast. And a bit too loudly.

Rufus' smiled became a little less hopeful and a bit more pleased. "And, as I have learned through my long, boorish years of life, people tend to not believe you if you simply waltz up to them with such a significant thing... so why not make it official, if you accept?"

Pinky found he had to sheathe the cutlass, lest he dropped it to the floor out of sheer dizziness. "What are you saying, Rufus?" he asked, the words a mere breath falling from numb lips.

He didn't want to believe.

He didn't want to _hope._

"I am saying I would very much like to adopt you, Pinky, if you will." And there it was again, that kind, patient smile. "You may have until you leave to think about it. And longer, if you're still not sure. I'm patient - I can wait. Though, if you'll excuse my bluntness... it seems like you need it. And I'm more than willing to give."

"How," Pinky blurted, "how many children have you adopted, again?"

"Seventy-two," Rufus promptly answered. "and counting. I love them all dearly."

What was he supposed to say? Or answer? Or _do?_ There were so many options - so many things he wanted to talk about - warnings, questions -

Pinky opened his mouth.

Then closed it again.

"I'll take that as a later answer, then," said Rufus, and smiled _again_. "No pressure, Pinky." He stood, started to walk out -

Pinky remembered his manners even through his vocal constipation and nearly smacked Rufus in the face with the cutlass.

Rufus gingerly pushed his hand away. "Keep it for now," he said. "To make sure it suits your needs."

Pinky swallowed, but nodded, taking a step back.

"Later, then?" asked Rufus.

Pinky nodded again, dumbfounded. Rufus chuckled, then gestured towards the door and began leading him out.

***

Sabeltann was waiting on the outside, arms crossed and face towards the city below them, expression solemn. When Pinky and Rufus walked out of the chamber, though, he immediately turned to meet them. His gaze fell to Pinky's hip, where he'd fastened the sheath and leather belt. "You found one, then?"

"Well..." How was he supposed to explain the rather strange situation without lighting himself on fire in the process?

Rufus came to his rescue. Again. "He'll borrow it, for now, to see if it fits."

Sabeltann looked at Pinky, apparently finding something in his expression he didn't expect to see. "Of course," he said. He'd picked up on the 'something _else_ ' part of the deal, then. And judging by his raised eyebrows, he was insanely curious.

***

"Rufus wants to adopt me."

Pinky had waited until they got back to their rooms to say it, wanting to have the conversation in private. This was a thing that concerned Sabeltann, if only because Pinky was his slave - but he wanted to talk to him about it _beyond_ that reason. He wanted to sort out his own thoughts and have Sabeltann's input – he wanted Sabeltann to _know_. He wanted to hear with Raveena, too, but she wasn't as accessible as Sabeltann, and so he was here first.

Sabeltann blinked. Twice. "I'd love to say I'm not surprised." He sat on the bed, giving Pinky a raised eyebrow. "Do you want him to?"

Pinky exhaled. There it was. "Yes _-_ yes, I do, I – I think so. I don't really see any downsides to it."

"What are the upsides?"

He put a hand to his forehead. "I don't _know_ ," he admitted, and that admission hurt - he wasn't sure if he wanted to prove something, or if the thought of having an official father was validating, or if he just needed, and needed, and _needed._

"Do you _want_ it?" Sabeltann asked again.

Pinky sat on the bed next to him. " _Yes_ ," he said again, "I do, I do, I _do_."

"Then why do you need a reason?" Sabeltann carefully pulled off Pinky's headcloth, running his fingers through the hair beneath. "Isn't your want enough?"

It didn't feel like it was enough. Not at all. "I don't know," he whispered.

"Then let me tell you," said Sabeltann, and shuffled closer, pressing gentle lips to his ear. "It _is._ Your want _is_ enough. You don't have to justify it. Not now."

Pinky inhaled shakily. "What if he asks? About why?"

"You answer. Tell the truth - you don't know - but you want it." Sabeltann drew back and smiled, tucking some of Pinky's hair behind his ear. "It's _Rufus._ He'll understand."

It was ridiculous how right he was. Pinky leaned against him, inhaling, exhaling. "Thank you."

***

"Rufus wants to adopt me."

He'd finally gotten Raveena for himself, having cornered her in the palace gardens while Sabeltann was exploring the library. Now she looked at him, wide-eyed, mouth agape.

"Really?" she asked. " _Really_ , really?"

"Really, really."

She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Within just a moment, she pulled back again, watching him with a frown. "Do you _want_ him to?"

Pinky drew a deep breath. He'd thought about it after Sabeltann asked - and yes, he did want him to, and not only because he'd had no one other than Langemann - and not only because he'd seen the way Rufus treated his children - but _also_ because, by God, that's some major bragging rights.

"Yes," he said, with utter certainty, "but I wanted to let you know before I tell him anything, because - I don't know, you're good at things like these."

She laughed, then hugged him again. When she pulled back, she was beaming, smile wide, and eyes bright. "I wish you could see who you've become," she muttered and bonked their foreheads together briefly. "I'm so proud."

Despite the questions that statement poised, Pinky only smiled a bit wobblily. "Thank you," he said, for really, what else was there to say?

***

The next three days were spent practising with the new cutlass - taking care to not disturb his wound terribly much in the process, of course. It included balancing the hilt, shifting grips on it, testing the blade's sharpness and limits - short, careful spars with Raveena in the palace gardens.

He noted Rufus walking by them, once or twice - looking, smiling, but never lingering. Pinky was ready to tell him he agreed to the adoption - but there was just... something about it that made him want to wait _._

"Should you tell Langemann?" Raveena asked, one day while they were trying out a move they'd seen the locals do.

Pinky winced, both because of the question and because he fumbled with the cutlass. "Probably."

The thing was, Langemann hadn't talked to him since Pinky had confronted him in Abra - and before that, he hadn't talked to him since he was caught in the treasure chamber.

"But," said Pinky, and finally it settled in, _at last._ "I don't want to. He hasn't made any claims on me; therefore, he doesn't deserve me. End of story."

Raveena slowed, giving Pinky the opening he needed to sloppily touch the blade to her side. "If that's what makes you happy," Raveena said, smiling, "then I support you."

It didn't necessarily make him happy, but it _did_ make him less miserable.

***

Pinky sat up with a start during the middle of the night.

What if he'd have to live here? What did Rufus from him? What if he expected something outrageous?

Oh, _no._

***

There were questions. Things he wanted to know. Things he _needed_ to know.

He wanted to say yes. He really, really did.

***

Pinky, Sabeltann, and Rufus were all gathered in the infirmary, one of the nurses inspecting Pinky's cut with gentle fingers. "Well," the nurse said, throwing aside the used bandages, "it looks like you're just about fine. You should be good for travel in a day or two." He reached for a new roll of bandages, these a thinner, airier kind.

"No infections?" asked Sabeltann.

"No infections, your Majesty."

It was only because Pinky was watching him that he noticed Sabeltann startling at the title. He gathered himself quickly enough to incline his head when the nurse glanced at him. "Good. That's good."

Apparently being called Majesty by a nurse was more surprising than being called Majesty by Rufus. Understandable, really – Rufus tended to joke with things like that. Nurses didn’t.

After being patched up with the new bandages as well, Pinky hopped down from the bed. "When do we leave, then, master?" he asked. "For Abra, I mean."

Sabeltann tapped his chin, then nodded. "Three days."

"Aye, okay," said Pinky. He turned to Rufus, then, knowing Sabeltann would let him ask if he were polite due to the whole situation. "May I speak to you, Rufus?"

Rufus blinked. "In regards to the cutlass?" he asked. Pinky nodded, and Rufus immediately turned to Sabeltann and made a shooing gesture. "The boy has spoken! Away with you, fiend." He stopped gesturing to laugh at Sabeltann's appalled expression. "I joke, I joke. Nonetheless, I'll be borrowing your Pinky for a short while, if that's okay?"

"Hm," said Sabeltann, raising his chin in the way he did when he was amused but felt like showing it might hurt his reputation, so he acted offended instead. "I suppose. Just return him in one piece."

"Naturally, your excellency," said Rufus, and sketched a far too deep bow.

Sabeltann raised his chin further, then huffed and left the room.

The natural bustle of the infirmary ceased around them, nurses now giving them a wide berth when they walked by. It effectively isolated them from prying ears, as any who might be trying to listen would stick out like a sore thumb.

Rufus said nothing, only turned to Pinky with a questioning expression.

"I, er. I have some questions," said Pinky.

"Understandably so," Rufus nodded. "Ask away, Pinky. I'm all ears."

Pinky bit his lip, then blurted, "Why do you want to adopt me?"

Rufus gave one of his many, many smiles. "You are a wonderful boy and a sweet person to boot," Rufus said, "but that's not half of it. There is power in saying you house and protect a great pirate, far more so one of Captain _Sabeltann's_ pirates. Can you honestly say that you haven't thought of that yourself?"

Pinky shook his head; he'd definitely thought of it (the other way around, of course), though he hadn't realized Rufus might find it a positive thing to be a pirate - to be Sabeltann's _slave._

"Moreso," said Rufus, and sat on the hospital bed, "I've seen the way you've looked at my children. And it might be a few years too late, but I'd still like to give you a thing you so sorely need - because I care."

"A few years too late," Pinky repeated. He fingered his chains. "I'm not too old? Just - most of the children I've seen are so _young_..."

"Oh, they are," Rufus nodded. "But you're far from the oldest to be taken in. I had a man of recently-turned twenty come to my door asking for help."

That eased his fears. A _lot_. Still, there were other questions. "What do you expect from me?"

"I mean," said Rufus, and chuckled a bit, "a letter every now and then wouldn't hurt."

Pinky blinked. "That's _it_?"

"You're old enough to choose your path - I don't _need_ anything from you, I'll be proud if you're doing your best." Rufus put a hand on his shoulder, though not squeezing, only holding. "I'll support you from afar. Is that okay?"

"You'll be here, and," Pinky said, trying to wrap his mind around it, "and I'll be in Abra?"

"Or wherever your sails take you," Rufus said, nodding. He tilted his head. "How is the cutlass, by the way?"

"I accept," Pinky said. "The cutlass is great. I accept."

***

They signed papers later that day, more for the sake of having actual paperwork than anything else. There was a strange warmth blossoming at the sight of their two names beside each other. When Pinky finished the last curl on the 'y' in his name, Rufus put a hand on his shoulder, and it felt right.

#  Chapter Twelve

The next three days passed without much fuss. Sabeltann, Pinky noticed, was starting to fret a bit - he didn't confront him about it, but there were these small, nervous ticks he did every now and then, which, along with the ones of boredom, made it pretty clear what his current situation was.

It was quite touching how willing he was to go against his own boredom like that, allowing Pinky to heal properly before setting off. Then again, Pinky wasn’t surprised. Sabeltann was a good master.

While Sabeltann took to periodically exploring every little nook and cranny and bordering up in their rooms, Pinky was invited out to a tour of the city. It was Rufus who brought him along, speaking of culture and symbolism and customs. Pinky had never been a huge fan of history, but Rufus made it seem fun in a way it hadn't appeared before. Maybe it was the way he so eagerly lit up whenever he talked about something that fascinated him - perhaps it was how he took his time and explained whenever he saw Pinky be confused. Pinky wasn't sure. In the end, it didn't matter - he'd had a good time, and Rufus had shown him some of his favourite dining places at the end of it, as well as giving him a few handfuls of coins as pocket money for himself.

"It's not gold," Rufus assured him, even as Pinky gratefully tied the pouch of money to his belt. "I made sure of that, so Sabeltann wouldn't take it."

Pinky grinned. "He would never," he said. When Rufus raised an eyebrow, Pinky made a so-and-so gesture. "Alright, maybe he would. Just a little."

Rufus had laughed at that, loudly and openly, and several of the passer-by's stopped to smile at the two of them.

Raveena grabbed hold of him the next day, asking eagerly if he wanted to go shopping. So shopping they went, with Pinky's newly acquired pocket money. After a conversation that was awkward only because it was sudden, they went off to find a sex shop some of the local teens had praised.

("Do you use any toys with the captain?

" _What_?"

"Look, you shove your sex life in my face all the time, I'm allowed to push a little back. Toys? No? How about we get some?")

When they found the shop, they spent some time just browsing. Pinky didn't really have a lot of experience with sex toys in general - at all, really - but Raveena seemed to have had a few... informative talks with her new group of friends and was more than willing to fill him in.

He ended up going with a jewelled buttplug in polished timber - a pale aquamarine to accent the African blackwood (or so the clerk said). Whether he wanted himself or Sabeltann to use it, Pinky had no clue - it had looked interesting, and he'd always been fascinated by things like these anyway. If Sabeltann didn't want to use it, then Pinky could use it other times - it would take less time to prepare himself then, he figured.

There was a slight issue with taking it back to their rooms without anyone noticing, but Pinky had huge pockets in his pants, and the buttplug wasn't big enough to be seen once slipped inside. Sabeltann definitely didn't have a habit of searching Pinky's pockets, and soon it was forgotten.

They were set to leave the next day, and Pinky folded the bedsheets with care, helped Sabeltann pack, and reminded him of where he'd left his countless quills.

The streets were packed with locals when they left for the harbour, cheering and yelling people wishing them a good trip. Raveena was seen hugging all her friends in turn, Elberthina and Simon following right after - a lovelorn Benjamin kissed someone goodbye with a promise of ‘I’ll write, just you wait and see!’ Pinky realized he’d never seen him cry before now and hoped this would go better than his countless other flings.

Rufus was dressed up all nicely, with a whole new wig looking just as impressive as the one he'd worn when they arrived. "It has been an _utmost pleasure_ having you here," he exclaimed, and bowed dramatically. "Though there are no words grand enough to express my regret for the pain your visit has caused." His gaze fell to Pinky, and some of the theatricals faded. "Nor for the joy it has brought me, for today, my son stands before me." He turned to the crowd - people trickling out of the gates of Lama Rama to watch the departure - and called, "Everyone! Have Pinky - of Lama Rama!"

The crowd cheered, though it seemed to be more habit than anything else. Most of the pirates had heard this already, though there were still some surprised looks from the Lady's crew. Pinky very pointedly didn't look at Langemann.

In the general chaos and disorder of the crewmembers climbing into rowboats, Rufus walked over to Pinky. He pulled him into a hug, which Pinky happily returned - to the best of his ability. "If you write, I'll gladly respond," Rufus said, ruffling his hair when he pulled back.

"I'll write!" Pinky promised.

"Go, now," said Rufus, and waved him off with a tender little smile. "Your life awaits."

Pinky was very definitely not crying. He wasn't able to form a response, only smiled, smiled, smiled.

***

Pinky stood by the bowstrip, leaning against the gunwale and watching the ocean unfold before him. Sabeltann was off checking the cannons on Benjamin's request, which left Pinky on his own for now. Not that he minded – a bit of privacy and time to think was always welcome.

Being back on the ship was fantastic. Lama Rama was great, let there be no doubts about that, but there was still a raw _joy_ to being on the open sea with nothing but the wind restricting your moves. The climate was almost instantly colder, though, which meant Pinky had no choice but to dress up in coats and boots again - at least when he was out on the deck - but it was a small price to pay for the freedom of the sea.

He was looking forward to getting back to Abra - to the castle and his bed - to the hustle and bustle of normality. Calm evenings in the library with Sabeltann; the quiet afterglow of a sparring match with Raveena.

How strange that _that_ had become his new normal. Had someone told him a year ago that this was where his life would go, he wouldn’t have believed them. Hell – he barely believed it now!

"Pinky."

Pinky blinked, surprised at being torn out of his musings. Most of the crew left others alone when they stood here – it was an unspoken rule that it was a place of afterthought.

He turned to face Langemann – who else? – standing with folded hands and a slight frown. "Yes?"

Langemann was quiet for a long moment. "What did he tell you?" he finally said, and there was a tone of scolding in his voice - the familiar mixture of disappointment and anger. "He's not Morgan, you know."

Once Pinky would've cowered – apologized – tried to explain. But Pinky was not the barely-literate boy desperately looking for information on his biological father in dusty books anymore. "And I suppose you think you are?" he replied instead.

Langemann's jaw dropped, though he recovered so fast it nearly seemed like he was just inhaling. "Did he tell you something? Promise something? You can't possibly have _agreed_ to - to what? Being _adopted_?"

"Yes, adopted," said Pinky coldly – not sure if he was defending himself or Rufus. "And why wouldn't I have agreed to it?"

"Well - well!" Langemann spluttered a bit. "You - _I'm_ supposed to be your guardian!"

Oh, _really._ "You haven't even _looked_ at me since I got these on," Pinky said, raising his hands pointedly, "not to mention before that!” He inhaled shakily, blurting, “Maybe I want a father before I want a guardian!"

Langemann took a step back, the flicker of something painful flashing across his face. "I don't want to see you _hurt_!"

"But I'm _not_!" Pinky exclaimed, gesturing insistently with his hands. "Why can't you see that?"

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Langemann sighed. "What _happened_ to you?" he asked quietly.

Pinky raised his chin. "I made a choice. And if you can't accept that, I won't accept you."

He didn't wait for a response, only marched off, making for Sabeltann's cabin. Langemann's gaze burned into his neck.

Pinky didn't look back.

***

Some of the muted frustration had melted away by the time Sabeltann entered the cabin - Pinky sat cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with the buttplug for lack of something better to do.

"There you are," Sabeltann said. "I thought you were still outside."

Pinky looked up at him and couldn't help the burst of appreciation and warmth - so insistent and instant, it was almost painful.

Sabeltann, who'd been on his way to the desk, glanced twice at Pinky's face and stopped entirely, brows falling into a frown. "What happened?"

He swallowed, looking down at his lap again, closing his fingers around the plug. "Langemann," he said.

" _Oh_ ," said Sabeltann, and went over to the bed, sinking into it. "I see."

"It's okay!" Pinky insisted, glancing up at his worried expression. "It's okay, I got to - I told him - " He shook his head. "I'm more frustrated than anything else. It's _okay_." Really, he’d rather change the subject to get his mind off the whole ordeal. He tightened his fingers around the plug, grasped his courage, and blurted, "Actually, can we talk about something else? I got something in Lama Rama."

"Hm? What?"

Pinky held up his hand and showed him the buttplug. Sabeltann blinked, carefully plucking it from Pinky's palm. It sat comfortably in his hand, dark against his pale skin. Pinky found himself hoping Sabeltann actually knew what a buttplug was, or he'd have to go through some awkward explanations.

It was obvious that he knew what he was holding, though, when he looked up at Pinky with softened pupils and flushed cheeks. "What were you thinking?" Sabeltann asked, his voice low.

"Well," said Pinky, mouth dry, "I'm - not sure, actually, master."

"Let's make it simpler, then," said Sabeltann and leaned closer until they were inches apart, breaths mingling. Pinky shivered. "You or me?"

Pinky's eyes slid closed, but he didn't move, not even to close the distance between them. "Master," he breathed, "I... I don't..."

He didn’t want to overstep – didn’t want Sabeltann laughing at him for saying what he wanted –

Sabeltann kissed him, tender and gentle, and Pinky’s worries evaporated. "Tell me. It's going to be alright."

"You," Pinky blurted, clutching at Sabeltann's shirt, "you, master, I - but if you don't - "

He kissed him again. When he pulled back, he brushed the pad of his thumb over Pinky's lower lip, a small smile grazing his own. "I was hoping you'd say that," he muttered, and pushed Pinky into the bed.

***

In Abra, snowfall had begun. The village, forest and coast were draped in a layer of snow - only the top of the volcano remained untouched, the stream of smoke drifting from it as steady as always.

Pinky helped carry Sabeltann's baggage back up to the castle, though Sabeltann had Benjamin take most of it.

"Ah," said Sabeltann, once Benjamin had been chased off and all the baggage placed in the right places. "Home."

And Pinky looked to Sabeltann, framed by the golden glow of the newly-lit torches, and smiled.

***

Despite Sabeltann being quite wonderful to spend time with, Pinky couldn't help but appreciate the moments he got alone with Raveena. Sabeltann had asked to watch a few times, especially after Pinky’s arm had healed fully - but he must've been able to tell Raveena was nervous about his presence, so he showed up only now and then.

"How're your parents?" Pinky asked before they started one of the first spars after they returned.

Raveena grimaced, but accepted the cutlass he offered her. "More accepting now that I'm still alive," she admitted, starting to inspect the cutlass. "Though still," -here she pitched her voice up to imitate her mother - "'I am very disappointed and also hurt, how dare you do this to me?'"

"Hm," said Pinky, and weighed his cutlass - his! His cutlass! - from hand to hand. "Does it bother you?"

She scoffed, then put aside the sheath. "Of course it bothers me. But I don't regret it." Raising the sword, she entered the starting position. "Not anymore."

And with that, she bowed.

"Good," said Pinky, and bowed back.

***

"Master?"

The title came out muffled, which was understandable, seeing as Pinky's face was mushed against Sabeltann's shoulder, knees hooked over his lap.

Sabeltann hummed, turning a page in his book. The fireplace crackled away in front of them.

"Rufus wanted me to write letters..." Pinky mumbled, lifting his head only slightly so the words would be more intelligible.

Another hum. "Do you want to write to him?"

"I'd like to, yes."

"I'll have some parchment ready when you ask." He paused a moment, glancing down at him. "You can write, can't you?"

Pinky, who'd never really tried to write but could definitely handle his letters just fine, nodded.

Sabeltann smiled, and Pinky was nearly positive that the tenderness to that smile was not born from the flames in the fireplace. "Of course you can, what am I thinking?" Sabeltann said, nuzzling the top of Pinky's head. "You're great at reading."

Pinky, who'd been busy leaning into the touch, blinked and pulled back. "Am I good at _reading_?"

"Yes?" said Sabeltann, who also pulled back, though he with a frown. "You've been through nearly my whole library – I notice when books are in the wrong places."

Pinky flushed and looked away, hands tightening around his chains. "I'm –"

"You've done nothing _wrong_ ," Sabeltann hurried to say, fingers tangling into Pinky's hair. "I explicitly stated you could - don't worry. I'm just proud."

The admission was dropped so suddenly and so out of nowhere that Pinky made a soft little keening sound.

Sabeltann had never said that before.

"Pinky?"

"Nothing, master," said Pinky, and lay back down against his shoulder, snuggling close. Warm, warm, warm. Smiling. "Nothing."

#  Chapter Thirteen

It wasn't long before cuddling in front of the fireplace was nothing but a faint memory.

Sabeltann had business to attend to on the other side of the island; he'd decided to cut through the jungle to get there faster. Snow began to fall while they walked, which birthed the concept of, 'this way is faster, I do believe,' which turned into, 'have we been here before?', which turned into, 'where are we?' which turned into 'okay, we're well and truly lost.'

They would've followed their own footsteps back, if it weren't for the fact that the wind was picking up, flinging newly-fallen snow into the air and distorting both vision and their path.

Pinky hadn't been dressed for this. Neither had Sabeltann, but to be fair, he always wore more than a few dozen layers of cloth anyway. Now his hair was full of snowflakes, cheeks only slightly flushed.

Pinky was _burning_ , the cold iron of his shackles drawing in the cold and nursing it into his skin. He didn't want to say anything about it, but it wouldn't be long before Sabeltann noticed - Pinky's teeth were chattering, his whole body trembling. The cold was spreading, too, biting icy teeth into his flesh and flowing through his bloodstream.

"Well," said Sabeltann, hands on his hips as he squinted against the violent snowfall, "well - there's a way out _somewhere_ , it's not like the jungle's eternal."

"Mhm," said Pinky, trying to subtly slip closer to maybe get some of his heat.

"So, naturally," Sabeltann continued, seemingly oblivious, "if we keep moving in a straight line, we'll get out sometime." He glanced up at the sky. "No matter the weather."

"Uhuh." Pinky snuck his hands into the coat to tuck them into his armpits, but the impossibly cold iron brushed against his underarm in the process, and he had to muffle a yelp.

"The problem _then_ ," Sabeltann said, "is where to _go._ Back, however, seems like the smartest option." He spun on his heel - as much as he could, with the quickly-rising snow - and crashed right into Pinky.

"Sorry!" Pinky rushed, staggering away so fast he tripped in the snow and fell on his back. It wasn't painful in any way he could explain, but the snow got trapped between his coat and skin, and he gasped.

"Alright," said Sabeltann, amused, "let's watch out a bit more, shall we?"

Pinky forced a smile and nodded, pushing up on his elbows. Sabeltann held out a hand, which Pinky gratefully took to be hauled to his feet.

"By the Gods, Pinky!" Sabeltann exclaimed, covering Pinky's hand with both of his. "You're freezing!"

"It _is_ winter, master," Pinky reminded him drily, though he could barely find the strength to tilt his head back to meet his gaze.

Sabeltann frowned. "Well, come, then – more the hurry to get back."

Pinky wasn't all too keen on trekking through more snow, but there wasn't much he could do except lie down and die, which didn't sound very tempting. He nodded, then fell into step behind Sabeltann, following his footsteps to make things easier for himself.

He couldn't feel his fingers anymore. He raised them to his mouth to breathe on his hands, hoping they would regain some kind of warmth.

They walked. And walked. And walked. It didn't seem to end - and Pinky was so numb he could barely think - he wasn't even cold anymore, just - unblinking, unthinking. Walking - one step after the other - Sabeltann was talking, but the words were blurring, their meaning fading.

He was slowing. Sabeltann was getting more distant, the wind and snow twisting his back from view.

He had to tell him – get him back, somehow. "Master…" Pinky whined, and even the _words_ felt numb. He just wanted – to be held, a little bit, right now – just a little bit –

He stumbled in his chains, falling –

And then Sabeltann was there, hands on his shoulder as he drew him close, closer, wrapping his coat and arms around him. He was saying his name, repeating it, worried – confused – and Pinky didn't have the energy to answer, only pressing his face against Sabeltann's torso, seeking his heat – his heartbeat.

Sabeltann's hands came to rest over Pinky's wrists, and then he moved to touch the collar around his neck - Pinky didn't move, only closing his eyes, breathing, breathing, breathing. "Pinky," Sabeltann muttered, and he could hear him now, finally, "Pinky, can you hear me?"

Pinky nodded dully against his chest.

"We have to remove the chains."

Pinky moaned, shaking his head. "No... no, keep..."

" _Pinky_ ," Sabeltann said, and then he was fiddling with his chains, fingers sliding along the metal. "You're going to _die_ , Pinky, look at me - "

He forced himself to do so, leaning back and tilting his head up, blinking hard to focus his eyes.

"You will _die_ ," Sabeltann repeated, brushing a thumb across his cheek, and he was warm, warm, _warm._ "I can't lose you. You can't die. You _can't_." He removed the thumb, returning to fumble with the chains. "So, we're getting those _off._ "

A soft _click_ , and then the metal around his neck snapped in half and slid off. He whimpered, again pressing his face to Sabeltann's chest, shivering at the sensation of wind tearing at untouched skin. Sabeltann reached for his hands, and Pinky caught a flash of a key now, small and unnoticeable, before the shackles around his wrists fell away, too.

He realized with a start he was crying, tears sliding down his cheeks, though not a sound escaped him except the odd whimper. His chains – his _chains_ –

What was he to Sabeltann without them? What was he – _who_ was he – oh, the _chains…_

Pinky inhaled shakily. "Your boots," Sabeltann muttered, and cradled Pinky's cheeks, wiping at his tears. "We'll have to take them off."

Pinky didn't even bother arguing, only nodded tiredly as Sabeltann shifted to untie his boots, carefully tugging them off.

"Pinky," he chastised, "you're _soaked_ , why didn't you say anything?"

Pinky sniffed. His toes burned as the shackles were removed. "Didn't wanna bother," he muttered.

Sabeltann leaned in to kiss his cheeks. First one, then the other. "You're never a bother," he whispered, "not to me."

The last shackle fell off.

He was free.

Pinky sniffled, then pushed closer against Sabeltann, needing, _needing._ Sabeltann removed Pinky’s socks as well, then wrapped Pinky into his arms, tucking him in-between his coat and his shirt.

"I'll get us home, Pinky," said Sabeltann, and pressed a shaky hand to his cheek as he stood, "I'll get us home."

He didn't know how long it took for Sabeltann to find the way back to the castle. Pinky was slipping in and out of consciousness, vision blacking out at times - every now and then he'd glance up at Sabeltann and find him watching back in worry, other times he'd be looking ahead, brows knitted close together.

He found himself staring into the forest a lot, just - watching the snow - the white - the serenity. A tiny little part of him admired at it, now that he wasn't moving, but the admiration was overshadowed by the numbness.

"Pinky. Pinky..." There were fingers on his cheeks, colder now than they were before, and Pinky blinked drowsily, glancing up at him. "I know where we are."

Pinky nodded, closing his eyes again - relief went through him, but again overshadowed - both because of the cold and because 'of course Sabeltann knew, he was _Sabeltann._ '

Next he knew, they were sliding down a hillside, and he clutched at Sabeltann's shirt instinctually, finally getting his fingers to work.

"I have you," said Sabeltann, his one arm pressing closer against Pinky, "I have you."

Pinky mumbled something, though even he wasn't aware of what he was saying. He drifted more. When he came back to, they were inside, Sabeltann lowering him onto the library couch. Things went dark again, and he drifted for a while, caught somewhere in-between awake and dreaming.

After a while he blinked, reality blurring back into place. He was still on the couch, though covered by a blanket, now, the fireplace crackling away. The heat chased some of the numbness away, and he shuddered, pulling the sheets closer around him.

Some clarity returned as Sabeltann walked briskly into the room, hair wet from melted snow, cheeks rose-tinted pink. He exhaled when he lay eyes on Pinky, relief clear in his expression. "Are you with me?" he asked, sitting carefully on the couch beside Pinky.

Pinky nodded. "Your meeting?"

Sabeltann put a hand against his forehead; it was cold, but not by much. "I sent a raven – wouldn’t have made it anyway," he said. "Open your mouth."

Pinky did, though he didn't see why he would want him to – before Sabeltann stuck a cold stick into his mouth. He mumbled a question around it, and Sabeltann rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Thermometer," he said courtly. "Leave it for some minutes. It's taking your temperature."

"Why?" slurred Pinky, which Sabeltann decided not to answer.

After some time, he did remove the thermometer, glancing at it for a moment before exhaling. "Thirty-six point one," he said, putting the thermometer onto the table, "that's good. Good. You're not suffering from hypothermia."

"Hypo-what-now?"

Sabeltann snorted, leaning down to kiss him. "How are you feeling?"

Pinky took a moment to think about it. He was still cold, but it wasn't a numbing chill anymore, just - the prickling, burning I'm-heating-up-again cold. "Alive," he settled on. "I could be warmer. But I'm... back? I'm back. Conscious."

Sabeltann nodded, pulling a hand through Pinky's hair. "You were out for a while there. I was...” He glanced away, throat working as he swallowed, his eyebrows falling into a slight frown. “…worried,” he finally settled on.

Pinky remembered with a start what Sabeltann had said - words arriving through the darkness. ' _I can't lose you'_ and ' _you're not a bother - not to me'_ and ' _I have you, I have you_.'

Did he imagine those tearstains on Sabeltann's cheeks, or had he actually been crying?

Pinky smiled, reaching out from the blankets to squeeze Sabeltann's fingers - and Pinky's hand was light, so painfully light, unrestricted now that no chains bound him. "I'm here, master - I'm fine. I'm fine."

Sabeltann inhaled shakily, and he squeezed back, tight, tight, _tight_. He ducked his head and brought Pinky's hand to his face, pressing his knuckles to his cheek, his forehead, his chin. "I know," he whispered. "I know. I know."

Pushing up onto his elbow, Pinky shifted around until he could reach out with his other hand as well, cradling Sabeltann's face gently. "Thank you," he whispered, and leaned in, kissing first his forehead, then his lips, lingering, tender.

Sabeltann didn't kiss him back at first, but then his breath hitched, and he shifted, pressing closer, mouth open, hands on Pinky's neck. It was full of relief and need - such startling, fiery need that Pinky was taken aback by it. Sabeltann's fingers scraped against his skin in something akin to desperation, and Pinky amended to him.

He knew what he wanted – had felt it before – would feel it again. The frantic compulsion to be absolutely certain everything was fine – that everything would _be_ fine.

"It's okay, master," he whispered, once Sabeltann pulled away enough for him to do so. "Do whatever you must. Take whatever you need."

Sabeltann's breath shuddered, his hands sliding from Pinky's neck to his cheeks, brushing some hair aside. "You're too good to me," he whispered, and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him.

Pinky let him - let him push him back onto the couch, let him kiss his mouth, his cheeks, his temples - his chin, his throat.

It was slower than usual, more tender - Sabeltann took his time, mapping out his body, fingers brushing against his skin as he unbuttoned his blouse. He kissed his wrists, his fingers - his ankles, his knees - fingers grazing the skin of his inner thighs - trailing up his stomach, his chest, and back to his throat.

He was so warm. Lips, mouth, breath, touch - so warm, so close, and Pinky breathed, breathed, the arousal a slow thing - the ocean rising gingerly, rocking him, rather than drawing him under.

Sabeltann kissed him again, straddling his lap, fingers curling around his wrists. "You're okay?" he whispered, and Pinky mewled, rocking up against Sabeltann and his hard-on.

"Yes," he replied, "yes, master, I'm okay. I'm okay."

"Good," said Sabeltann, and kissed him again, slowing, slower.

It wasn't long before Pinky was squirming beneath him, breath coming in short puffs. "Master," he said, eyes slipping closed, "master - please?"

"Inside you?" asked Sabeltann, pressing his lips to Pinky's collarbone, his Adam's apple, his jawline. His hand fluttered down to his hip, tracing circles on his skin.

Pinky bit his lip, hips twitching. "Yes," he said, "yes, please, _yes_."

Sabeltann slid off him, and Pinky lay there, panting, his dick aching. Sabeltann soon returned with a jar of coconut oil. "You sure?" he asked, softly, quietly - leaning down to kiss him again - lips, brows, nose.

" _Master_ ," Pinky whined, "please... please - "

"Shh," said Sabeltann, reaching down between them, fingers soft against Pinky's rim. "Shh, Pinky, it's okay. It's okay. I have you."

Pinky's breath hitched. He closed his eyes, clutching at the pillows - losing himself in the sensation of Sabeltann's fingers working against him, inside him, careful and gentle.

"Ready?" asked Sabeltann.

"Yes," said Pinky, "yes, yes, _master_ …"

Sabeltann moved against him, and Pinky – despite himself – couldn't keep back the soft moan as he pushed in. Taking his time, Sabeltann helped him sit up – propping him against the soft armrest and the pillows there so he was caught somewhere half-way between sitting and lying down.

Sabeltann waited, leaning up to kiss him again. "Good?" he asked.

Pinky tried to pull him closer, and he let him, but not by a lot. "Good," Pinky assured. "Please…"

Sabeltann moved, setting a leisurely pace – in and out – in, careful, out, careful – Pinky tried to move against him, but he didn't change the pace – still the slow but tender strokes. The pleasure, like the arousal, was gradual – a sluggish pressure building so slowly it was almost painful. Whining, Pinky leaned up into Sabeltann, for the first time reaching around him without being halted by the chains, clutching at his shoulder blades, feeling his muscles work beneath his palms.

"It's okay," said Sabeltann, trailing fingers down Pinky's back. "It's okay."

Pinky pressed his forehead against Sabeltann's shoulder. He'd tried grinding down against him, but since that hadn't worked out in his favour – there wasn't much he could do except take it. Not that he didn't like it – he would've stopped Sabeltann if he did – it was unusual, but not unwelcome.

So as Sabeltann moved – Pinky riding wave after heated wave of pleasure – unending – there was nothing he could do but close his eyes and take it. Enjoying it. Loving it.

Love…

The orgasm didn't come as a surprise, but Pinky still let out a withered gasp as the peak hit, dragging him down beneath the frothing waves. Sabeltann did, for once, not hesitate before continuing – perhaps knowing – sensing – Pinky would strangle him if he did.

He was crying, he realized, tears in his eyes as he gasped for breath, needing, _needing_ –

"Say my name," Sabeltann whispered, closing his mouth around Pinky's ear, biting gently, grazing his skin with his teeth. "My name… _Pinky_ …"

It took him by surprise, bringing him a clear moment of confusion before Sabeltann shifted, pressing into the good spot and tearing the breath from Pinky's lungs.

"Please," said Sabeltann, and Pinky bent, broke, mended again –

" _Sabeltann_ ," he gasped.

"Yes," said Sabeltann, "yes – yes – "

"Sabeltann," Pinky repeated, and it rolled smoothly over his tongue, honey and gold, "Sabeltann…"

Sabeltann curled around him, tugging him closer, and Pinky gasped again, burrowing his face in his shoulder, breathing, breathing.

Drowning.

"It's okay," Sabeltann whispered, and moved, and moved. "It's okay, it's okay, you're okay -"

It built again, the pressure, and Pinky lost himself in it, coming again with a broken cry, a garbled mess of _Sabeltann-master-Sabeltann_ on his lips. Too much – it was all too much, Sabeltann's warmth and presence and the complete _care_ he was taking, the utter devotion. He'd carried him, held him close, and – _'I can't lose you_ ' and _'Please, please, please stay_ ' and tears on Pinky's cheeks that weren't his, and the warmth bloomed, and Pinky – Pinky –

"You're okay," Sabeltann repeated, and his voice was broken, breaking, muffled with shaken relief, "you're okay – "

And Pinky -

Loved him.

He came a third time, and Sabeltann followed not long after, biting into Pinky's shoulder.

And Pinky loved him.

***

He lay afterwards, Sabeltann atop him, Pinky’s arms trembling as he pressed his palms flat against Sabeltann's back. He said nothing, staring up at the ceiling as he mulled this realization over-

Pinky wasn't sure if he even wanted to call it a realization. It was more like puzzle pieces snapping together to form a complete, gorgeous picture.

Of course he loved him. Of course.

Those months ago, Raveena had asked him – _do you love him?_ How hadn't he seen it then?

How hadn't he seen it before now?

Maybe he had seen it before – in Lama Rama when he jumped to take his blow – when he bent for him the first time – when Sabeltann accepted Raveena as the Master Sailor. Had he been too afraid to realize? Fearful of the consequences – his own emotions – his own heart?

Those months ago, he'd come to the conclusion that his emotions changed nothing. It still changed nothing – Sabeltann, though he cared, didn't love him – could maybe never love.

But Pinky was not afraid of the truth. Not anymore.

#  Chapter Fourteen

‘Dear Rufus

I hope this letter finds you well (and that the letter is well, too – I know how the ravens can be sometimes). It has been a while since we left Lama Rama. How are the children? My siblings, I guess I should call them… it's still weird to think about. And what of Badal? My arm has healed well, and feel free to tell him so in an as mean-spirited way as you can, greetings from me with extra salt.

Your old cutlass works excellently. I've won most of my spars with Raveena – she insists it's me, but I still attribute some of it to the cutlass. Master told me some blades are named if they're unique enough or have been in a grand enough battle – his cutlass is apparently called 'Cleaver.' He still refuses to tell me why. Does yours have a name? I doubt it'll ever come to it, but I don't want to name it if it already bears one.

My chains are gone. We got lost in the forest a week before me writing this – the weather is colder here than in Lama Rama, and it was both snowing and windy that day. Metal, as you surely know, sucks the heat out of pretty much anything. We had to remove them for my own safety, though I really didn't want to. I miss them. Though, I'll admit it's easier getting dressed now!

I had to confront master about the chains. I think, if I hadn't talked to him, he would've kept his stupid mouth shut until the end of time. He seemed reluctant to talk about it – he was evading the topic the whole time, but still somehow managed to be surprised when I asked for new chains. If he'd listened from the start on, he wouldn't have been, but he's just like that, I suppose.

Stupid oaf. He's ridiculous, I swear.

Anyway, we settled on an agreement. New chains, though less restricting – more shackles than anything else. Master wanted them made of gold as a status symbol. I agreed. He was against any chains at all, but I asked for just the one, so he accepted. It'll be around the neck, which is fine by me. We're still looking into getting them crafted, but master promised me them, so I know I'll end up with them in the end.

I… realized something recently. You're the first who will hear of it – I haven't even told Raveena. She probably won't be surprised. You won't be either, I think. I wasn't really surprised myself, though I feel like I should be.

The biggest surprise is that I didn't realize I love him sooner. And I do. I love him.

I love him.

All the well-wishes for your Kingdom! Send Hari my greetings if you have the time – master sends his to you.

With care,

Pinky.’

***

They were down in Abra two weeks later, Pinky feeling more naked now than ever without the chains. Sabeltann, sensing Pinky’s discomfort, drew him close to his side, hand loosely fisted in the back of his blouse. It was a great relief, and Pinky touched his hip briefly to show his gratitude.

This was when the raven came, settling down on Pinky’s shoulder with a squawk. Pinky blinked, surprised, but took her letter and tucked it away, eager to read once they got back – only to find it was two, one addressed to him, and one to Sabeltann.

***

‘Dear Pinky

I'm glad to hear from you, and that your arm is doing well! Badal glared at me in return, so I do believe the mean spirit came sufficiently across. The kids are doing good, though Mary recently hurt her wrist while playing – we're hoping for a speedy recovery. (Also, you don't have to call them anything you're not comfortable with. This is only emotional if you want it to, and political if you desire it to be so. Please keep your own comfort in mind!)

You don't give yourself nearly enough credit – your friend Raveena is right in that regard. I'm glad to hear the cutlass suits you! I never got around to naming it, so if you wish to do so, go ahead.

I understand your feelings regarding the chains – Sabeltann sounds about as stubborn as always, as well, though I'm glad to hear you figured it out. If you still haven't figured anything out by the time this reaches you, if you send the measurements, I know of many smiths in Lama Rama I can recommend. Though, the finished chains will have to be sent with a shipment – gold is too heavy to send with raven.

You're right – it comes as no surprise to me. I truthfully thought you both knew when you were here, though some things make more sense now. Have you told him, or do you plan to? I haven't mentioned anything in his letter, so don't worry about that – it is merely a request for an official trading route.

Hari greets you in turn! He asks how you fare and says he's surprised (though pleased) you remember him!

Yours,

Rufus.’

***

"And you're certain?" Sabeltann asked, jotting down a number on parchment as he wrapped the measuring tape around Pinky's neck.

Pinky rolled his eyes. "Yes, master, I'm certain. A bit looser, there – not that much – there, perfect."

Sabeltann squinted at the tape. "Seems a bit too loose."

"I'll grow into it."

He grimaced. "Don't say it like _that_. You're not a child growing into a hand-down jacket."

"Meh," said Pinky, thinking of Langemann, "depends on who you ask."

Now it was Sabeltann's turn to roll his eyes. "By the laws of this land, you're not."

"Now that much is true," Pinky allowed. Sabeltann pulled away. "Is that it?"

Inclining his head, Sabeltann put away the tape. "Aye. You can send it off with the next letter." He handed the parchment over, fingers lingering at the back of Pinky's hand. "You're… you _know_ you don't have to do this, Pinky?"

"You've said as much, aye," said Pinky, and pocketed the parchment. "And I've told you, it's not about need, but _want._ If you don't want me to, I won't, but _I want to._ "

Sabeltann hesitated for a moment too long.

A terrifying thought settled in. Ice drenched him from head to toe, and he swallowed. "Do you… not want me here?" Pinky asked, and even he could hear how his voice rose, cracked, nearly breaking. "Have I been – " He fumbled for the words. "Aren't I – good enough?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sabeltann said, and pulled him into a hug, holding tight. "You're _more_ than good enough, don't you dare doubt that. And I definitely want you here, but – I want you to _want_ to be here."

"Which I _do_ ," Pinky sighed. "Why can't you believe that?"

"Because," said Sabeltann, and then he cut himself off, changing his grip to bury his face in Pinky's hair. When he continued, his voice was low and frail. "Because no one has wanted to before."

 _I love you_ , thought Pinky then, and didn't know how to tell him, or even if he _should_ tell him, for he was selfish enough to want to stay despite it all – and surely, if Sabeltann knew, things would change.

***

"I love him," said Pinky, the next time Raveena showed up at the castle to spar.

"Welcome to the club," said Raveena. "Does he know?"

"I haven't told him."

She hummed, lazily side-stepping a half-hearted blow from him. "On a scale from one to ten, how oblivious is he to emotions?"

Pinky thought for a moment. “Like, seven.”

She laughed, wild and raw. "He's _not_ in the club, then. Are you planning to invite him?"

"Nope," said Pinky, and yelped as her borrowed blade slid down his cutlass, flicking it out of his hands. He chuckled. "I don't see why."

Raveena levelled him with a heavy look but said nothing, only pointed her sword at his chest, right above his heart.

***

It was the night of a new moon when the trading shipment with Pinky's new chains – in addition to spices, gold, and dried fruits – arrived. Sabeltann scrutinized them the next day – thankfully done with the whole 'okay, but are you _sure'_ dilemma. He tugged Pinky close, gentle as he snapped the new shackles into place – wide, golden bracelets around wrists and ankles, though the chain – golden and elegant – was only attached to the collar.

Just as last time, Pinky never _saw_ a key. He assumed it existed, though. Sabeltann would never let Rufus get away with making a key-less chaining system – and Rufus would never make it in the first place.

"Comfortable?" Sabeltann asked, tapping his nails against the gold adorning Pinky's throat.

He ducked his head, a familiar ease – a familiar warmth – welling. He'd admit, the last few weeks had been – discomforting, not knowing his place or his role in Sabeltann's life if he weren't his slave. "Yes, master," he said.

He liked that. He wanted the certainty - the serenity - the knowledge that he was _his._

Sabeltann's fingers twitched. He reached for the chain, running it across his palm. "I'll admit I missed this," he said.

"Missed wha – "

Sabeltann pulled on the chain, a smooth, deliberate move that caused Pinky to stumble forward – a jolt of adrenaline, the instinctive pulse of _you did something right_ bursting through him – and Sabeltann kissed Pinky hard on the mouth.

Pinky laughed brightly when Sabeltann pulled back.

The gold was already heating.

***

The first time Pinky was alone in Abra with the new chains, he was sent to Oliver's to pick up the new precious-metal-cleaning-kit he'd declared arrived. "Hey-hey," Pinky greeted, closing the door behind him.

Oliver lit up when he saw him. "Ah, Pinky - good to see you, it's been a while."

"And the same to you," Pinky said, smiling.

"New chains?" Oliver asked, glancing down at Pinky's neck. His eyes didn't twitch as much as they did last time. "And gold, hm?" He bent beneath the desk, fishing out a small box.

"Yeah," said Pinky and handed over a few coins. "Old ones had to go." He took the box, taking a quick peek to make sure everything Sabeltann had asked for was there. Before Oliver had the time to say anything, Pinky smiled up at him and said, "Thanks, by the way."

Oliver blinked. "For what?"

"Getting me into this situation." Pinky pocketed the box, sending another beaming smile at Oliver. "If you hadn't told me about the log books... who knows where I would be now?"

Snorting, Oliver shook his head. "A better place, maybe."

"I'm as good as I can be," said Pinky. Ever since the truth had settled in, he'd felt like he was glowing - his love bursting out of him with every step he took - every breath he drew. "Please believe me."

"I do," said Oliver, smiling an honest smile as he reached across the counter to ruffle his hair. "I do."

And Pinky believed him.

#  Chapter Fifteen

"The full moon festival is coming up."

Pinky hummed, standing on his tip-toes to squint into the bookshelf. "It is," he agreed, fingers running across the titles of the books. He'd read most of them already, but he knew there were a few left.

"I'm attending," Sabeltann continued. There was a notch of nervousness to his tone, but when Pinky glanced over, he stood tall and proud, hands clutched behind his back. The only proof of his agitation was his twitching mustache.

"Okay, master," said Pinky, and inclined his head. Sabeltann had never attended the full moon festival before - but it wasn't like Pinky was about to comment on that, or, God forbid, try to stop him.

"You're coming with me," said Sabeltann. His mustache twitched again.

"Okay, master," repeated Pinky. Naturally. Where else would he be? He pulled a book down from the shelf. Flipping through the first pages, he said, "Do you have business there?"

"No. I just - want to go. With you."

Nodding, Pinky put the book back into the shelf. Not too interesting, that one. "Alright."

He could feel Sabeltann's gaze burning into his back, but he only reached for the next book. There was nothing weird about Sabeltann wanting to go to a festival to have some fun - Pinky wasn't going to make a big deal out of it.

***

The full moon festival was awkward.

Pinky had not attended many festivals before - twice or thrice with Raveena, and once alone - but it seemed, to his untrained eye, that there were more people than usual. The streets were lit by delicate lanterns with starry patterns, soft music playing distantly. People were bustling about, most glancing at Sabeltann several times, but all ultimately looking away to mind their own business. Bless the festival customs - to care only for your own, if just for a little while. Couples were talking together alone or in groups, one or two walking alone - though not for long before someone drew them in amongst them.

Pinky had seen Raveena and Elberthina huddled close, once or twice as Sabeltann walked around, but he’d deigned to not interrupt or talk to them. They seemed entirely caught up in themselves, so he settled for smiling to himself, happy on Raveena’s behalf.

It had gone dark quite a while ago, the moon visible through a thin drapery of inky clouds, though midnight was still some time away. Sabeltann had brought Pinky along down to the harbour, where they walked along the stalls in a tense silence.

Why Sabeltann was so uncertain, Pinky didn’t know. Maybe it was the associations of the full moon festival? The fact that it was for lovers and friends to come together and be happy? He was just about to open his mouth and assure Sabeltann he wasn’t reading into it too much when Sabeltann interrupted him.

"Pinky," he said, "do you know why I wanted you to come with me tonight?"

Pinky glanced at him hesitantly. "Because I'm your slave?" he tried. It was the only logical conclusion he could draw.

"No," said Sabeltann, and put a hand on his shoulder, steering him into the alleyway between two abandoned stalls - out of most people's hearing range, but still very clearly at the festival. "It's because I wanted to tell you something."

Despite himself, there was a brief, split moment where Pinky wondered – desperately hoped – wished – but no, this was _Sabeltann._ And, if it had been anyone else he’d actually had a chance with, it wasn’t midnight yet.

"Go ahead," Pinky said, instead, swallowing down his yearning.

Sabeltann drew a deep breath, shifting them so that Pinky's back was facing the crowd, Sabeltann's face cast in the gentle light of the overhead lantern. "Alright," said Sabeltann, "I know you've said you want to be – here – with me – "

"Because I _do_ ," Pinky interrupted, knowing Sabeltann didn't like it and doing it anyway.

" _Please_ let me finish," said Sabeltann, reaching briefly for Pinky's hands, squeezing before dropping them just as hastily. "You won't say that when I'm done."

Pinky quieted, frowning.

"You've been hurt under my watch and care," Sabeltann began. It sounded practiced. Weighted. "You've gotten sick, and scarred, and nearer to death than I'd like to think about. I've dragged you into things you haven't wanted or appreciated." His expression twisted - as though he was battling himself – like every word hurt, but not in an obvious way. "And," said Sabeltann, eyes downcast, shoulders tense – "I'm sorry. I apologize."

Pinky swallowed but didn't dare interrupt. He knew enough to recognize when Sabeltann was bursting with unsaid thoughts. Even if he wished to comfort – to assure him it was fine, that they were fine, that Pinky was fine – there was an unsaid need to the way Sabeltann held himself.

"I have..." Sabeltann cut off, watching something over Pinky's shoulder - the crowd, probably, someone stopping to glance at them before walking on. "I have come to care... very deeply for you," Sabeltann continued, and there was a flush to his cheeks, a familiar pinkish-purple.

Pinky's heart skipped a beat. "Oh?" he said, softly, the sound barely escaping him. His doubts about it not yet being midnight fled. Could it be?

...dare he hope?

 _Dare_ he?

"I understood when I believed you might die," Sabeltann said, and he still wasn't looking at him, gaze flickering aimlessly. "It should have been apparent when I realized I wanted you by my side every single day of my life, but - " He gave a humourless, dry little chuckle. "But I suppose I was too blind to see."

"What," said Pinky, and breathed, swallowed - had to lick his lips to gather his thoughts - "What are you trying to say, master?"

And Sabeltann looked at him in the same way Pinky had seen him look to the ocean and his gold and his freedom – like Raidah looked to her ship, and Raveena to the horizon, and how Pinky imagined he must look to Sabeltann himself.

"I'm trying to say I've fallen for you," said Sabeltann.

And Pinky dared _._

"Like," said Pinky quietly, voice a mere breath, the words barely-there. He dared, he dared, he _dared_. “Like... in love?"

Sabeltann looked so lost and scared, none of the usual pride in the way he held himself. "Like, in love," Sabeltann repeated, and his voice cracked. He glanced away. "I – get it. If you no longer wish to stay in the castle. With me. And that knowledge." He started fumbling around in his pockets, and Pinky watched, lightheaded – his own heartbeat nearly muffling Sabeltann's words. A key was pulled forth – small, golden, and with the Lama Rama emblem etched onto it. "I shan't think any lesser of you," Sabeltann whispered, and held out the key. "All I ask is - you don't hold this against me."

He looked so small, clutching at the key like a lifeline - set up for failure, expecting nothing but loss.

Pinky’s heart broke, just a little bit.

"Oh, master," Pinky breathed, and stepped forward, taking the key – though he took Sabeltann’s hand as well, turning it over to gently curl his fingers around the key once again. "Keep the key. Keep everything." Pinky smiled at him – smiled, smiled, smiled like he'd never smiled before – love quivering, bursting – and reached up, pressing his fingertips to Sabeltann's cheek. "Do you think I would ever have done what I've done with you if I didn't love you?" He lowered his voice, whispering, "Need you? Appreciate every inch of you?" He stretched, hands on Sabeltann's chest for balance, to kiss him lightly. When he pulled back, he stepped away, though he still smiled - and smiled, smiled, his heart a soft, content purring in his chest. "Your chains have given my life purpose and meaning I never thought I wanted - no, _needed._ Don’t you see that? You’ve given me everything."

"Oh," said Sabeltann, and staggered forward, catching Pinky's face in his hands before pressing their lips together – wildly – desperately.

Pinky kissed back eagerly, clutching at Sabeltann's hair. He dared – he dared, he dared! Though he didn’t believe it, not quite yet – there was a small part of him wondering if it could be a fever dream.

Sabeltann broke off and pressed their foreheads together. "I love you," he breathed, "I love you, I love you - " There were tears on his cheeks and relief in his eyes, and Pinky laughed, pulling him closer.

No, Pinky decided, not in his wildest dreams could he imagine Sabeltann using a voice so tender and vulnerable – saying words so heartfelt and true.

"I love you, too," Pinky said, and kissed him again, again, again. "Love, love, _love –_ "

He could say it. He could say it - and mean it - and by God did it feel good, like balm on a wound he didn't even know he had - warm and right and _real._

"Why didn't you say anything?" Sabeltann asked, and he was smiling, too, hands on Pinky's skin - heart in Pinky's heart.

"Why didn't _you_?" Pinky retorted, and laughed, kissing Sabeltann's cheek.

"I _did_!" Sabeltann complained, and his voice shook with amusement and muffled laughter. "Gods, Pinky, you're impossible - and I love you -" He laughed, then, breathless and awed. "I love you. I _love_ you."

"And I you," said Pinky, and linked their hands together, palm pressed against palm, "you great _dork_."

Things weren’t awkward after that. They walked through the streets – hand in hand, talking in hushed tones with small smiles. They even went to get some candy from the stall by the harbour, too caught up in each other to notice the surprised look on the owner’s face.

“Mm... master?” They stood, snacking on caramelized apples against one of the worn houses by the dock, the moonlight flickering on the darkened water lapping at the wood just beneath their feet.

Sabeltann glanced over at him, a smile ghosting over his face. “Yes?” The light spilled down across him, dancing over his expression, dipping along his cheeks.

Beautiful.

“Thank you,” said Pinky.

***

When Pinky lay curled up against Sabeltann's side that night, he was for the first time not worried for his role – for his chains – for his future.

The night outside was cold, the darkness pressing close to the windows – the gold against his skin was warm, though, and Sabeltann's chest fell and rose in time with his breath. Pinky tried breathing in time with him, fingers splayed over his heart, each thump echoing down his spine.

Pinky closed his eyes, content – pleased.

He was home.

#  Epilogue

_Four years later:_

‘Heya, dad!

I hope Mary's birth went well - I'm assuming she's given birth at this point, anyway - I can't wait to be introduced as her kid's (kids'?) uncle! How is Hari? I'm excited to hear how his exams went. Your health should be good as well, or I'll skin you myself.

Things are going well here with us. The Sisters are waiting to depart - Raidah says I'm soon ready to take over the Shadow, which I'm still not sure about, but if she's sure - she is - and master is sure - he is - I guess I don't have much of a choice.

(I do want it, though, so don’t worry about that! I just don't know if I'm ready - though, as you say, there are some things you're never ready for. We’ll just have to see how I do, I suppose.)

Skalken asks for Benjamin - have you heard anything from him or his spouse? I hope the moving process went well for them both, I've heard that can be hard. At least Benjamin’s been visiting a lot in-between expeditions – he must have the whole city mapped out by now!

Master keeps insisting on getting me more books. At this point, I'll have my own library - I told him as much, and he got this gleam in his eyes... I swear, if he starts building a new room or something, I'll strangle him with my own chain.

…remember that call I told you about some time back? I still feel it. I would've thought it was sea longing, but it doesn't seem like it. It's less like needing to be on the sea and more like... I don't know. Something that has to be found.

Something I'm missing.

I'm getting abstract here - it's probably nothing. Forgive my ramblings.

Raveena did win the tournament, by the way! She parades her medal around like it's worth more than master's entire castle - with yours on top. Knowing her, it probably is. (For the record, she beat me only by two battles, and as we didn't want to go against each other in the finale, things got a bit complicated! I'll tell you the details when we arrive.)

Either way - I'm looking forward to seeing you again! And my whole gaggle of siblings - they seem to grow every year, are you sure you're not secretly cloning them somewhere?

Master is pestering me to come to bed - I'll cut this short. We depart tomorrow. Let's see what arrives first - the raven or the ship!

Yours dearly,

Pinky of Lama Rama.’


End file.
